Growing Up!: My Young Years
by Ralph Jr
Summary: A companion piece to my "Story Of Ralph Raccoon" fanfic. Melissa Raccoon tells the story of her younger life, explaining the circumstances of how she grew up, her relationship with her father, several of her high school relationships, and finally, how she came across and ended up with the true love of her life.
1. Chapter 1: Meet Melissa!

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**: I've been somewhat indecisive in deciding what to write next, Raccoons-wise. After I finished "Beat the Clock", I wanted to continue with the timeline I have going on with that story and write a sequel, in which we find out what happens next in Bert and Maxie's relationship and what sort of challenges they would face together, and how Ralph and Melissa would adapt to life as the new parents of a baby boy. Alas...I have had a lot of problems getting my ideas organized for that story. It's very hard to write when you don't have all your ideas in order and when you're suffering from a general lack of motivation! It also didn't help I had an old story idea requested by a fan of my work (You MIGHT remember who you are) brewing in my head for months that built up steam. So, for the time being, I've decided to put off writing the sequel to "Beat the Clock" for a while. In the meantime...I'm sure you might well remember "The Story Of Ralph Raccoon", the very first Raccoons story I wrote, a tale in which Ralph narrates the story himself and tells us about his younger life...primarily the story of how he and Melissa came to know one another and ultimately ended up marrying her. Well, the idea I had suggested was a companion piece to that story, the story...of MELISSA Raccoon! So that's basically what this story is. Another story told from the point of view of a character from the show, this time it's our favorite friendly photographer, Melissa. I plan to delve a lot more into her own childhood and teenage years than I did with Ralph...You'll really get to know Melissa well in this story. Along the way, Melissa will discuss her family's heritage, her early childhood, her moving around from place to place as a young girl, her relationship with her father, her friends from elementary school, high school, and college, and her previous romantic relationships before she met Ralph (yes, I do imagine she had a few more boyfriends besides Troy Malone!) You'll also see her meeting Ralph, her growing friendship and attraction to him, and the two of them ultimately becoming a couple and finally tying the knot in marriage by the end of the story...Seeing that "Story of Ralph" focused on that as well, there'll be a little repetition...but I will try to mix things up by adding in new scenes and re-writing the dialogue from the old scenes (Mainly because I think I could have written some of the dialogue of "Story of Ralph" better). Oh, and one more thing...Melissa is re-telling her life story in early 2001, so this WILL be taking place after "Beat the Clock"'s sequel ends (or perhaps, during it?). I will be trying my best not to spoil too much of what would happen in that story!

With that said, I hope this'll be a story you'll enjoy. So, now we move onto the single worst part of this story, the ever boring legal disclaimer...

**_Legal Disclaimer of FUN!_**_: I do not own the rights to the Raccoons or any of the characters of the show. They all belong to Kevin Gillis and Skywriter Media and Entertainment. I will never (barring a miracle) make enough money to ever be able to buy the rights to the show and characters, as much as I might wish I could viably do so. Any and all bands, songs, albums, sports figures, entertainment figures, and other real people that might show up in this story (though none will ever play anything close to a starring role) do not belong to me as well; they all belong to their respective owners and I will do my damnedest to give them the proper credit. However, I DO own some of the characters that will be used in this story as they are of my own creation. They can only be used with my permission...which I will be happy to give if you ask nicely. If you steal them behind my back without asking me first, there's a good chance we **MAY **have a problem...I have no intent to profit from this work in any way, shape, or form. If I did attempt to profit from this story, then I'm well aware Kevin Gillis would have every right in the world to sue me for trying to make money from characters of his creation and could personally see to it that I end up in rags._

_Now that we got this incredibly ugly necessity out of the way, I hope you will enjoy..._

**Growing Up!: My Young Years**

**CHAPTER ONE: Meet Melissa!**

Well, hi there! My name is Melissa Allison Raccoon. You might not know who I am personally, but I have a feeling there's a good chance those of you in North America probably have at the very least heard my name before. I am a semi-famous professional newspaper photographer. I work for the _Evergreen Standard_, a small newspaper based in the Evergreen Forest, a small and out of the way forest community located in central British Columbia, Canada. My long-time husband Ralph is the paper's proud editor, and together we co-own the humble little pape. Our old friend Bert is our only other current full-time staff member; he's our so-called "ace reporter", and our occasional delivery boy. We periodically print articles written by some of our close friends, but for the most part, it's just the three of us working on the paper together. You'd be surprised how well we put the paper considering there are only three people on our full-time staff! But I guess it goes to show that when you work as a team, you can really accomplish anything! We've run the _Standard _together for...wow, it's been almost sixteen full years now! Has it really been that long we've been in business?

As I mentioned, I'm the paper's photographer. Photography has always long been a hobby of mine. It's a bit hard for me to say what exactly drew me to photography in the first place. I think when I got my first camera many years ago when I was still just a little girl, I wanted to take some snapshots of my childhood memories so I could have mementos to look back on when I was a fully grown woman...Well, I certainly do have quite a lot of old memories captured on film! (I find it hard to believe last November I turned forty! I can barely believe I'm actually "over the hill"...) Although I was a girl of many talents, and had a choice between several different possible career paths, ultimately I decided to pursue a career in photojournalism. And it's really come to pay dividends for me. Aside from publishing my photos in each week's edition, I've also published several books of my best shots. Ralph helps me write the introductions to them and the captions for the photos, since...well, I'll openly admit I'm not the best typist in the world. Ralph is much more skilled at typing than I am. You can't be a jack of all trades, after all...(although Bert would certainly like to think he is one!) They've gotten quite good reviews from several different critics and magazines, and I've even gotten job offers from several major newspapers and magazines to work for them! Alas, I could never leave the Forest to work for any of them-I'd leave too much behind. I wasn't born in the Evergreen Forest, but I've lived here long enough to where I consider it my true home. It's where I feel I belong. I'd miss seeing all my friends if I left the Forest. But most of all, I'd miss my husband and my young son. They'd both be very lonely without me around. I don't think that would be fair to either of them if I left them all alone at home without me while I was away for months and months at a time.

Aside from being the newspaper's trusty photographer, I also write a professional relationship advice column that appears every week in the _Standard_. You see...deep down, I'm a very sentimental raccoon. I may not always let it on, but I _do _deeply love romance. When I was younger, I'd always listen to the fairy tales my father would read to me and wonder if I'd ever find my very own Prince Charming someday. I always love curling up with a good romance novel...although no matter how gripping the story, deep down I consider mine and Ralph's very own love story to be greater than any one of them. Even so, I always have found it sweet to see couples in love. Ralph and I have a wonderful marriage, but...I'm well aware that not every couple in the Forest has as great a relationship as the two of us do. So, Ralph encouraged me to give the idea of writing a relationship column a chance. I decided to give it a try, and well...I really quite enjoy it! Every week I get letters from someone who is having love troubles, and I will always write advice that may be helpful to them (well, I handwrite my responses and Ralph types them up for me, since, as I said, I'm not a good typist...). I have always thought that a little understanding, a little support, and a little compromise are key to being able to make a relationship work...especially if both partners have full time careers like Ralph and I! I've gotten quite a few letters from those who've written thanking me for the advice and telling them how much my advice has helped improve their love life. Those letters always mean volumes to me. It really makes me smile knowing I was able to help make a difference in the life of someone I only vaguely know at best!

Anyways, now that I've talked about myself a bit, I'd like to tell you a bit about my friends and loved ones; all those who are important to me in someway. First of all, there's Schaeffer. Schaeffer's an old sheepdog who I met not too long after Ralph and I married; at that time, he was new to the Forest. He's almost a decade older than me or most of those close to me; he's in his early fifties. Schaeffer has had somewhat of a difficult past. He originally came from Idaho down in the States and actually saw active combat duty in the Vietnam War. He definitely saw some horrible things while in service that no doubt haunt his memory to this very day. I actually didn't know until recently that he still receives therapy to this day! Despite his tough past and his rough outward appearance, Schaeffer is a very friendly guy. He's also quite wise too-having seen a lot of the good and bad sides of the world, he really knows a lot. He opened the Blue Spruce Cafe back in the late '80s and it's turned into one of the most prominent hotspots in the whole Forest. Even though we may not see Schaeffer a whole lot outside of the Cafe these days, he's still a great friend.

Then there's Cedric and Sophia Sneer, a married pair of aardvarks. Cedric is one of my husband Ralph's oldest and dearest friends. They met each other when they were just young kids in elementary school. Cedric was the son of the Forest's most notorious businessmen, Cyril Sneer. Cyril was well known for being hotheaded and he had a desire to destroy our Forest community for profit. But over time, he calmed down greatly, to the point where he became a near ally of ours. Cyril sadly passed away a few years ago, and when he did, Cedric took over his father's business, which he has done quite an impressive job of running, to say the least! Cedric's very different from his father...he's hardly greedy at all. Cedric's often quite modest and, in fact, somewhat meek and shy. His self-confidence has improved greatly over the years, but deep down, he can still be a little shy in social situations. He's definitely a good friend for sure. He met Sophia Tutu not too long after Ralph and I were married, and the two quickly fell in love and started dating one another. Sophia is a good friend of mine, although not my closest friend. She is definitely a nice, friendly, cheerful lady, although she's probably the last person you'd want to share a secret with! She's quite snoopy and is definitely a major gossip-in fact, she once wrote a social gossip column for the _Standard_! In spite of their differences, Cedric and Sophia love each other very much, and I thought it was very sweet to see the two of them finally get married after spending so many years together. Their marriage has produced a set of adorable twins, Cecil and Sylvia Sneer. Cecil is more socially active and outgoing like his mother, while Sylvia is more shy and reserved like her father. The two of them have become quite great friends with my own little son...I always find it adorable to see the three of them having a play date together. It's nice to know our families may well be friends for many generations to come.

And then there's...Bert. Bert, aside from being our ace reporter, is my husband's oldest and dearest friend...the two of them met each other on their first day of school when poor Ralph was being tortured by a bully. Bert came to his rescue, and they struck up a friendship with each other. That friendship has lasted nearly forty years. Bert lived with us at our home, the Raccoondominium, for many years-more than a decade, in fact! He lived there so long we actually thought he might well live there forever. Bert and Ralph are very close friends...in fact, they remind me almost of brothers. They are _definitely_ very different from one another. While my husband is more quiet and reserved, Bert, on the other hand, is _definitely_ a real goofball at heart. He's easily excitable and when he finds a subject that catches his interest, he can talk about it on and on without ever growing tired of it. He loves reading fantasy novels, as he has a very active sense of imagination! He also claims to be an ace at ANYTHING...you name it, he claims he's an expert at it, even if he isn't. Despite his often boastful nature and the fact that he can be destructive sometimes, Bert is still a true friend. He'd do anything for his closest friends-he's _fiercely_ loyal to us all. I honestly think if he had to, he'd willingly give up his own life to save ours should the situation call for it! Bert can get on my nerves now and again, but deep down I know he's a good friend.

Next is Maxie. Maxie is one of my closest friends...I always enjoy talking to her. I actually feel pretty bad for her since compared to some of us, she's had a _really _rough life. Maxie's a member of the Ringtail family...a very well-known family in these parts of Canada as they're one of British Columbia's wealthiest families. Maxie wanted to work as an illustrator for children's books and was all set up for a good life...but she made the poor choice of sleeping with her high school boyfriend without any protection. Maxie wound up getting pregnant, and needless to see, her family was outraged. They promptly disowned her and tossed her out into the streets to fend for herself. After her daughter, Annie Ringtail, was born, Maxie was desperate for a job to help support her and her new daughter and scrounged around many different cities and towns just looking for a career. She finally found one here when she moved here and Schaeffer offered her a job working at the Blue Spruce Cafe as a dishwasher (she's since moved on to being a waitress at my husband brother's own restaurant). Maxie finally found some security and stability in her life, but...she was very lonely. She wanted the company of a man and, thanks to being a single mother, had such a hard time finding one who actually wanted her. She wound up falling in love with Bert since he was one of the few men she actually talked to. Eventually, I was able to set Bert up with her a few years ago, and the two quickly discovered they really liked one another's company. They started dating, and much to my surprise, considering Bert used to be a _really _wild raccoon when I first met him (an amateur "thief of hearts", if you will), they actually entered a really serious relationship with one another. I was _greatly _surprised when Bert ultimately decided to move out of the Raccoondominium to go live with her! It was hard for Ralph and I to adjust to not having him around the house anymore, but we eventually managed to adapt. Bert and Maxie's relationship saw some ups and downs, but I was really glad a couple years ago when the two of them decided to tie the knot. I was especially proud of Bert for loving and caring about Maxie enough to where he willingly asked her for her paw in marriage! I never would have thought he'd be willing to go that far with anyone when I first met him. The two of them are definitely quite happy together, and I'm glad to see Maxie happy after having had such a rough life to this point. I think it's sweet knowing two lonely people found love together.

Now, I suppose I should tell you more about my family; those related to me either by blood or through marriage. First of all, there's my husband's brother George, and his wife Nicole. George is about fifteen years older than Ralph. Throughout his whole childhood, he dreamed of being a world famous chef. He left the Forest after graduating from Evergreen High and went to a culinary school in Edmonton, then afterwards, moved all around the country trying to hold down a proper job. It was while he was living in Quebec in the early 1970s that he met Nicole Lafitte. Nicole came from a rather poor family; in fact, she was the first in her entire family to even attend college. (As a matter of fact...so was I!) The two of them started dating, but their relationship took a turn for the worse when George accidentally got Nicole pregnant with their daughter, Lisa. Nicole's father was _very _angry and all but forced George to marry his daughter to keep Lisa from being born out of wedlock. Their relationship started on an ugly note and they've had their rough patches together, but they've been married for nearly 30 years and had two children. George had trouble holding down a proper job, until he finally moved back to the Forest and got a job hosting his own TV show, _Chef Surprise_. After hosting that show for six years, he retired from the show and used the money he saved from hosting it to open up a restaurant of his very own. George does remind me of Ralph in some ways. He does have the same self-confidence problems my husband has (that _has _to run in the family). He's quite a worrywart and can always see the worst in any possible situation. However, George is more outgoing than Ralph; he's more comfortable in social situations than my husband, and has less of a problem speaking exactly what's on his mind...which can sometimes get him in trouble. Ralph and George are fairly close, but if anything, Ralph's closer to Bert than he is with his own brother...I guess that's because George left home while Ralph was still a little kit, so they didn't get to know one another very well. As for Nicole...Nicole is one of my closest friends. She is rather responsible and wise and knows a lot about parenting and many other subjects. Seeing as both of their children are fully grown and out of the house, they definitely both appreciate the times they get to look after my little Michael!

Then there's my niece and nephew, Lisa and Bentley, George and Nicole's children. Lisa has always been a very athletic girl. She was especially good at basketball during her younger days; in fact, she helped lead Evergreen High's girls' basketball team to the '92 provincial championship finals (although they didn't win). She had a very hard time adapting to life in the Forest, but Bert was able to help her cheer up and in time, she's really grown attached to our little Forest community. Bert used to have a crush on her for the longest time, and he dearly hoped one day they'd end up together...unfortunately, she didn't feel quite the same. Bert took it pretty hard, but in spite of that, Bert and Lisa have still managed to remain very good friends with one another. Lisa currently teaches a gym class at Evergreen Elementary...I've just realized that one day very soon, she'll probably have her own little cousin in one of her classes! Bentley is Bert's very own "little buddy". He's very intelligent and spent a lot of time attached to his computer. He spent so much time attached to it, it seemed like he had no interest in anything else. But Bert was able to show him that physical activities could be fun, and ever since then, they've been great friends. Bentley has plans of being a computer technician someday; I'm certain he'll do quite well in that field! Bentley's longtime girlfriend was Maxie's daughter, Annie...just this past year, not too long after Bert wed her mother, Bentley and Annie got engaged as well! They're due to be married sometime in the summer...they haven't set an exact date yet. It looks like Bert will be Bentley's stepfather-in-law...now that's a strange title to call someone, I'd say!

And then, there's the two most important guys in my whole life; the two who mean all the world to me. First of all, there's my dearly beloved husband, Ralph. I'll go ahead and say...Ralph is more than just my husband. He's my best friend, my companion, my soulmate. I met Ralph in my second year of college, not too long after I first came to the Evergreen Forest. Ralph was so very...different from other guys I dated. Many of them were bold, outgoing, and rather arrogant...Ralph was _nothing_ like that. When I first met him, Ralph was timid, quiet, and polite. Over the years, with my help, he's become more confident in himself and more comfortable in social situations, but Ralph is still a rather quiet and reserved guy, overall, while I am more outgoing and easily sociable than him. That's just who he is. The two of us quickly became friends, and over time, I found myself falling in love with him and the two of us began dating. It's hard to believe we've been married nearly twenty years...this coming May 12th will mark our seventeenth wedding anniversary! Ralph may not be the most handsome guy around; he may not be the funniest guy you'll ever met (I'll be honest and admit he can't really tell any good jokes), and he's not the richest man, either. But Ralph has one very big thing going for him...a very big heart. He may be a very serious and responsible raccoon, but deep down he's a really big softie. I can always count on Ralph when I really need him. Whenever I need someone to cheer me up when I'm feeling sad, whenever I need help doing something, whenever I need someone to talk to, or whenever I just want someone to snuggle with, Ralph is always there for me. He's done so many sweet things for me I couldn't even begin to count them! Ralph loves giving me compliments and always loves reminding me how much he loves me...and to be honest, I really love the flattery! Those kind words he has for me really make me feel good about myself! He's written many love poems for me over the years...sure, some of them might be cheesy, but I've loved every one of them! You really have no idea how sweet it is that someone cares about you enough that they wrote you a poem telling you how much they love you unless someone's actually done that for you!

Having said that, there are _some _things about Ralph that I'm not as fond of...For one, Ralph is _very _jealous. I was the first girlfriend he ever had, as he didn't have much luck with women in his high school days, and so, I guess I am very special to him. Ralph is well aware I've been with other men before him, and needless to say...the subject of my past relationships is one we definitely try to avoid talking about! Ralph gets jealous anytime he sees me talking to another man he doesn't know very well, and he's told me that deep down he's afraid that one day I'll realize I'm too good for him and leave him for some other guy. He's even done some...not very wise things that have scared me half to death to prove he's good enough for me. Silly Ralph! I sometimes wish he'd understand that even though I may have had boyfriends before him and that it may be nice to keep in touch with my old flames (to see how life has fared for them), that there's only one man in this world I truly love with all my heart, and that's him. If I didn't, I wouldn't have married him, would I? I just wish he'd understand that sometimes...not to mention, Ralph is _very _dedicated to his career as the _Standard_'s editor. It's always been a dream of his to work as a newspaper editor, so I can understand the attachment he feels to his job. But sometimes he takes his job _way _too seriously and puts it above everything else; our friends, our son, and even me! He's gotten a lot better at this over the years, but sometimes he still puts too much effort into his work. I wish he wouldn't do that! As much as I love my job, it's not _the _most important thing in the world to me...my husband and my child are what's most important to me. In spite of his flaws...I still love Ralph very much, and I know he loves me just the same. We've had our difficult times, but we've always been able to resolve our differences without getting into a fight. Even if Ralph may be rather self-doubtful, I definitely love that I can always give him that extra boost of confidence that he needs! I hope Ralph and I have many more happy years together ahead of us...I consider myself a very lucky woman to call him my hubby!

And then, there's my precious little Michael; my one and only son. You see, Ralph and I spent many years together without having any children of our own. Children were just never that important to us at the time...we were more focused on our careers and getting ourselves secure financially. But then, a few years ago, a baby boom happened in the Forest, and deep down, I began to feel sad. I realized that I felt sad because Ralph and I didn't have any kids of our own, and deep down, I really wanted to have one! I told Ralph how I felt and that I wanted to have a baby...but at first, he wasn't as keen on the idea, as Ralph had his doubts that he could ever make a good parent. It upset me so...but fortunately, after taking a while to think about it, Ralph finally agreed with me that we should give the idea of being parents a chance. It took us a while, but finally, just after I turned thirty-six years old, I found out I was pregnant with our first child. It was definitely a very happy moment when we first found out I was expecting! Pregnancy was...unlike anything I'd ever experienced before! It was a little rough on me...it's certainly a...unique experience having a child growing inside of you for nine months! But it was all worth it for that September day when our adorable little child was finally born. He was born on my husband's birthday! I can't remember too much of that day seeing as they gave me a lot of medicine to make labor less painful, but...I can definitely remember when they first gave me my son to hold for the first time. I just remember feeling so warm inside...I just felt so proud to be a new mother! Ralph and I decided to name our son Michael, in honor of my late father, who sadly passed away from cancer while I was still pregnant with his grandchild. I still wish he could have lived just long enough to see his grandson...I miss Daddy so much...

It's hard to believe that was already three years ago! Michael was a sickly child in his first year of life, and he kept us constantly worried about him, but now, he is three years old...it won't be too much longer before his first day of school! Michael is just the cutest little thing you ever saw. He's got most of my facial features...my nose, my ears, and some other features. However, he's got his father's eyes and the same stocky body type Ralph has. Michael is a very playful little child...like me when I was little! He loves being read stories and loves to go for piggyback rides with me or Ralph. But he's also a very shy little child...like Ralph said he was when he was little. He feels a little scared in new situations and feels uncomfortable around people he doesn't know. I hope he doesn't have a hard time at school like his father did...Still...he's just the most precious thing! I _really _love being a mom. It's been a very rewarding experience for the both of us raising a child together. Michael _really _looks up to me. He always wants me to give him hugs and tell him stories and tuck him into bed at night. He's currently afraid of thunderstorms...whenever the Forest gets a nighttime thunderstorm, lately he's always been rushing into our bedroom wanting to sleep with me so I can keep him safe from the thunder and lightning. He definitely loves his Mommy! I just wish he'd love his Daddy as much...he _does _love Ralph too, but he doesn't spend as much time with his father and sometimes feels a little nervous playing with him. I have some ideas on how I can bring little Michael closer to his father...Rest assured, the both of us love Michael very much-he's our only child, after all! No matter what happens, he'll always be our baby. Ralph and I are keeping some scrapbooks so we can keep track of important milestones in Michael's young life and also keep some family memories in there so we can look back at them one day. We already filled one scrapbook up that covers my pregnancy and Michael's first year of life! I hope the three of us have many happy family moments down the road that we can treasure for the rest of our lives. Of all the gifts Ralph has ever given to me, I would definitely have to say Michael is the best gift of them all!

I don't like to brag, nor do I mean to sound like I might be bragging, but I definitely have a great life. I have a great career, a wonderful, loving husband, and an adorable young son. I know I'm better off than quite a few other women out there. Sometimes, though, when I sit back and think about how wonderful my life truly is, I wonder to myself "How did I get here? How did I get this lucky? How did I end up with all this?" Well...I'd like to tell you that story. I'd like to tell you more about my young life. The story of how I grew up; how I went from being a curious and lively little girl to a responsible and cheerful woman. I'd like you to learn all about me and who I really am, and how I became who I am today.

Let me start by telling you more about my family's heritage and my early childhood...

**END CHAPTER ONE**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**: Well, it's a start! Yes, I know this is very similar to the introduction of "The Story Of Ralph Raccoon"...but that's what I feel would make a good introduction for a first-person story told from the point of view of one of our furry heroes. Have them introduce themselves to the reader, describe their life a little bit, and share their thoughts on all those who mean something to them. I think it makes you feel a little closer to that character. Consider this a "teaser", if you will, for the story itself...Now that I've written a first person story for Ralph and am beginning to write one for Melissa...do I need to write one for Bert, too?

Melissa loving romance...I can easily see her secretly being a _real _sucker for romance. Remember when Cyril Sneer and Lady Baden-Baden were almost married? Melissa was the only one to comment (on hearing the news of the wedding) on how romantic it sounded. She does always seem to be the first to comment on things that are romantic in nature...so even though Melissa might be somewhat of a tomboy, I can see her avidly having an interest in matters of the heart. Hey, she's got to have some feminine interests!

Yes, I'm aware I spoiled some of what would happen in "Beat the Clock"'s sequel...I guess I just wanted to show how Melissa would feel about such things like being a mother, having a child, and seeing her friends getting married and having children as well. I don't think I spoiled TOO much...there will still be plenty of surprises in store for you when I eventually do get around to writing it!

Anyways, this is the introduction...not much to say about other than maybe you learned more about my ideas on some of the characters' backgrounds. Next time around, learn more about Melissa's Mulligan family heritage, hear her thoughts on the circumstances of her birth and her mother's death while she was still just a tiny kit, and see her starting to really bond with her father. It'll be coming soon...I hope!


	2. Chapter 2: Melissa's Beginnings

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** Well, the introduction to this story went rather well...It was just an introduction, but I think it served its' purpose even though it was hardly original and was very similar to the introduction to Ralph's story...I think that was a good way to start off a story told from one of our furry heroes' point of view. You got a good feel for Melissa's personality, how she feels about how her life has turned out, and her thoughts on all of her friends and her loved ones; all those who are important to her. A good start...but that was just an introduction. Now, it's time to start Melissa's story of her younger years PROPER...Well, sort of. I think first, it's a good idea for Melissa to share her family's background and history, so we can learn more about her family and a few of her ancestors. We'll also learn more about Melissa's father's young life, and the circumstances that led up to her birth. You'll also see a few of Melissa's earliest childhood memories...but be prepared, seeing as Melissa lost her mother before she ever even got to know her, they'll be tinged with a bit of sadness. Not a long chapter, but at least we'll be starting to get somewhere! These first few chapters will deal with Melissa's first few years of her life when she lived in Kentucky (at least in my stories). They'll be a little on the short side seeing that Melissa and her father left Kentucky for Canada while she was still very young (thus, she doesn't a whole lot of memories of living in Kentucky), but the "Kentucky chapters" should still be a nice read...if tinged with sadness, like I said. Let's dive in, shall we?

**CHAPTER TWO: Melissa's Beginnings**

I can certainly say I've had an interesting life thus far. It would actually surprise quite a lot of people to learn that I'm not from the Evergreen Forest originally, considering how strongly I'm attached to this place. It's probably an even bigger surprise to folks to learn that I'm not even Canadian-born, myself...

But before I tell you about my past, I think I should tell you a bit about my ancestors and my family heritage...

You see, I'm sad to say that Michael and I are the last two surviving members of my entire family-the Mulligan family. Our family tree has always been a rather small one, it seems...and when my father passed away a few years ago, that left just me and Michael, who was still a few months away from being born when he passed. I think you can understand why Michael is so important to me, since he's pretty much the future of my family's blood...

Anyways, Ralph and I have been rather interested in our families' history. We've always found it interesting to learn more about our ancestors and what their lives were like, and how we ultimately came to where we are today. Years ago, I helped publish a book chronicling the ancestors of the Forest's inhabitants, basically to let everyone know where everyone else came from and how they got to where they are today. But old books and the stories we were told in our youths can only go so far. Times have changed a lot in the last few years, however...

You see, computers are now becoming more and more commonplace these days. In fact, just a few years ago, not long before Michael was born, we actually replaced the _Standard_'s typewriter and printing press with computers and printers (I still have my old darkroom for developing my photographs, but I realize the writing's on the wall for that, too...). Ralph was opposed to it at first, seeing as he's not terribly fond of more modern technology. It took him a long time to get used to actually using computers properly, but he's become a lot more proficient at using them...even if he _still _isn't all that terribly fond of computers in the first place! But anyways...I've found the Internet to be a rather fascinating place. It amazes me how you can find anything you might want to know just by typing in what you want to look for and then searching for it. To think of all the knowledge at your disposal! Ralph and I have found a few genealogy websites which we've taken a closer look at, and we've both learned a lot more about our ancestors, more than we ever thought we could know...

So, I suppose I should start with how my ancestors came to America in the first place. Well over one-hundred-and-fifty years ago, my ancestors lived in nineteenth-century Ireland. The Mulligan family was a small and very poor family of humble potato farmers, living on a small tenant farm. Many of Ireland's poor made their living by farming, and many of them were dependent on potatoes for their survival. I guess you could say my ancestors were a typical poor Irish family. It was a very simple existence, for sure, but they managed to get by.

But alas, things wouldn't remain well for long. In the mid-to-late 1840s, Ireland was struck by a _terrible _famine which caused the country's population to drop rather significantly. A disease known as blight came to Ireland and infected the potato crop. In no time at all, the majority of the crop withered and died. This was terrible news for Ireland's poor farming families, as they were pretty much totally dependent upon their potato crops. With no food to eat, many of the poor starved to death. Children, mothers, fathers, and elderly alike all died in _absolute _misery. I can only imagine how horrible it must have been for my ancestors to have been suffering with no food to eat, as many of them undoubtedly succumbed to the famine...

As a result of the potato famine, many of those who had not succumbed to hunger and starvation opted to leave Ireland all together to look for new opportunities elsewhere. Some of them sailed to England to seek out work; England at that time controlled Ireland and wealthy English families owned much of the land in the country. Many more ultimately boarded steamships and sailed for North America, a land of opportunity...a place to make a fresh start and where one could have a chance of making something out of their lives.

One of these many immigrants was my great-great-great-grandfather, Graeme Mulligan. He evidently survived the terrible famine, having apparently been the _only _Mulligan to have not died of starvation. He sailed to England, hoping to find employment there. Having not found much success, he opted to sail to America to make a new start. So, he eventually traveled to Liverpool and boarded an immigrant steamship called the _City of Glasgow_. From there, he sailed across the Atlantic Ocean to America. The 1850s were a very different time from today...and ocean crossings were _much_ more hazardous than they are nowadays. Back in those days, the radio had yet to be invented, so ships had no way of calling for help in the event that something went wrong during their trek across the ocean. If a ship encountered a severe storm, struck an iceberg, suffered a mechanical failure, or had anything bad happen, she was all on her own. Many ships that made the voyage to America were never seen or heard from again after they sailed, with no trace of them ever being found. It must have been a harrowing voyage for my great-great-great-grandfather, not knowing if he'd ever actually make it to America safely...

But luckily, everything turned out fine, as the _City of Glasgow_ safely arrived in Philadelphia in September of 1853. It was rather lucky Graeme Mulligan sailed when he did, as out of curiosity I looked up more information on the _City of Glasgow _and, much to my surprise, learned that the ship set sail on the same voyage the very next spring and was never heard from again after she sailed! Nearly 500 people aboard her perished when she was forever lost to the sea...I hesitate to imagine if my great-great-great-grandfather had been aboard the ship on _that _particular voyage; I wouldn't even be here!

Anyways, upon reaching America, Graeme Mulligan settled in northeastern Pennsylvania, in a small community that would eventually become the present day city of Scranton. Graeme took a job as a carpenter and settled down and married. He had a son by the name of John Mulligan, my great-great-grandfather, and a daughter named Georgia Mulligan. When the Civil War broke out in the 1860s, Graeme joined the Union Army. Unfortunately, Graeme wouldn't survive the war, as he was killed in combat at the battle of Spotsylvania Court House in Virginia in 1864. This left my great-great-great grandmother Frances a widow, leaving her to raise their children alone. She passed away in 1898, never to remarry. His daughter Georgia lived to be 76 years old, but never married and never had any children, passing away in 1936, just a few years before my father was born.

When John Mulligan grew up, he moved out of Pennsylvania, heading further south. He settled in Northern Kentucky, just outside the city of Louisville. This is where my family would live for nearly a century afterwards. For most of his life, John worked as a bricklayer, helping build new houses on the outskirts of town. John settled down and married a woman by the name of Mary Martin, and together, they had a son named Ronald Mulligan, born in 1891. Sadly, his wife passed away during childbirth, and my great-great grandfather never really recovered from that. He spent the rest of his years a broken man and died in 1927 at the age of 68.

My great-grandfather Ronald had somewhat of an interesting life. He met and married my great-grandmother, Rosalie Stevenson, in 1911. They had two children, my grandfather, Richard Mulligan, born in 1912, and his sister, Sharon Mulligan, born in 1915. Sadly, Sharon did not live past childhood as she was one of many to perish as a result of the massive Spanish Flu Outbreak in 1918. Ronald Mulligan took a job early in life as a bartender, the same profession my own father would take up later on in his life. One day, while on the job, he was actually shot in the _chest _by an unruly patron who owed him money. But against the odds, he survived and spent the rest of his (sadly, short) life with it still in his chest. When the US joined WWI towards the tail end of the Great War, my great-grandfather joined the US Army to fight overseas in Europe. Unfortunately, he would never make it back home...as he was sadly killed in battle on June 6, 1918 at the Battle of Bealleau Wood, in France. He was buried in a nearby cemetery where he still remains to this day...Seeing that at least three of my ancestors and relatives were killed in combat during times of war, I can _definitely_ understand why Dad ultimately fled the US for Canada...Having been widowed and having tragically lost one of her children to a terrible illness, Rosalie Mulligan ultimately remarried a man by the name of Steve Darkpaw. She had two more children by him, took on a nursing career, and helped raise my grandfather until she ultimately passed away on October 3rd, 1942.

Now my grandfather, Richard Mulligan, was _truly _an interesting character. I consider it a _real _shame I never got to meet him...but alas, he passed away years before I was born. It seems to me that the males of the Mulligan family (there have been considerably more males than females, I must say) tended to die tragically young due to unfortunate circumstances. A part of me worries that something bad might happen to my little Michael before he has the chance to grow old...oh, I don't want to think about it! I can't imagine something terrible happening to my son...

But anyways, when my grandfather Richard was growing up, he took a significant interest in a new invention of the day...the automobile. He was evidently always fascinated by them and longed to one day become a mechanic working on cars. So when he grew up, that's just what he did! He opened an auto parts store and became a fairly successful local mechanic. I think my father inherited the mechanical know-how from him...he always knew how to fix a broken down car. He married Glenda Morgan in 1937, and soon, they had a son: Mike Mulligan, my father, born on June 13, 1939. A little over a year later, they had another son, Scott Mulligan, born on October 22, 1940. Grandpa Richard went on to fight in WWII, as he served aboard an aircraft carrier in the Pacific, and actually flew in bombing missions against the Japanese forces. He certainly lived quite an interesting life...

...but perhaps most interesting of all was what his _true _pastime was. You see...throughout the 1920s and the early 1930s, the sale of any and all alcohol was prohibited in the US as a result of the Eighteenth Amendment. Prohibition ultimately came to an end in 1933 when the Twenty-First Amendment was passed repealing the previous Amendment...but even so, not every county of every state chose to allow alcohol again. But that didn't mean that the county's inhabitants didn't want their alcohol...even if it was against the law. So, many young enterprising men began souping up their cars to make them go faster so they could deliver alcohol to paying customers...specifically, moonshine.

My grandfather...was just one of these many daring bootleggers. His job as a mechanic brought him a decent pay, but it wasn't enough to satisfy him, as he wanted his young family to live more comfortably. So...he decided that smuggling illegal moonshine into neighboring dry counties would be a better way to make money. He souped up his Ford in the late 1930s and proceeded to become a notorious Kentucky moonshine runner. It turned out to be a more profitable career than his job as a mechanic was! Some of his exploits became semi-legendary throughout the area. He would often be pursued by county sheriffs and other police officers on his moonshine runs. But his car was MUCH faster than theirs. They never caught him even though they DEEPLY wanted to do so. Sometimes, they wouldn't even _bother _chasing after his speedy Ford because they knew his car could go considerably faster than any of theirs could go, and it would be futile to chase after him as he virtually never made a mistake-he knew all the backwoods dirt roads by heart. Even _after _his successful stint as a US Navy pilot in WWII, he _still _continued to make moonshine runs upon returning home. Dad even told me that when he was little, he distinctly remembered his father having a large moonshine still concealed in the basement of their house!

Of course, my grandfather was hardly the _only _successful moonshine runner out there...there were many other bootleggers throughout the entire South. Many of these bootleggers competed in races against each other to see who the best of the moonshine runners was. My grandfather actually competed in some of these early races; I definitely remember my Dad telling me he could remember travelling to several dirt tracks around the South when he was still just a kit. Eventually, not long after WWII, these bootleggers came together and decided to create their own organized stock car racing series, which they called NASCAR. My grandfather very likely would have joined NASCAR as an early driver had he lived long enough; my Dad told me Grandpa always loved going fast. NASCAR is _hardly _a sport I'd say I was interested in...although I would definitely say my Dad was interested in it. I can just hear him cursing at the TV a couple of years before he passed away when I visited him once, cursing at "that damned Gordon kid who got a top ride because his parents handed him everything on a silver platter." All I can say is that sport has really changed a lot over the years...It was certainly interesting to know my Grandpa could have been a pioneering stock car driver!

Anyways, my father and his little brother Scott were really close growing up. They both got themselves into quite a lot mischief when they were young kits. They weren't exactly the _brightest _of kits, either...when they were about five and four years old, respectively, they both ended up finding one of my grandfather's guns. Grandpa Richard was away at war at the time, so he wasn't able to stop them from finding his guns. They were both playing around with the gun, just having fun pretending to shoot each other. Unfortunately...neither of them knew that there was actually a bullet in the gun's chamber. So when Uncle Scott accidentally pulled the trigger while pointing the gun at my father, it went off and the bullet hit my father in the left eye. He was _very _lucky he wasn't accidentally killed that day...I'm certainly glad he wasn't as my very existence depended upon his survival! Alas, my father's left eye was pretty much destroyed by the bullet. They were able to remove the bullet...but unfortunately, they had to remove his eye, and ultimately wound up stitching his eye socket shut. For the rest of his life, my father always wore an eyepatch over his sewn-up eye socket so as not to frighten anyone. Uncle Scott felt terrible for what he had accidentally done, and for the rest of his tragically short life, he always felt guilty knowing he could have accidentally killed his own brother...

Even so, my father and my uncle had a fairly happy life growing up...But alas, it wasn't to last for long. Not long after Grandpa Richard returned home from the WWII, his wife Glenda came down with pneumonia and abruptly died in 1946. My Grandpa and the kids were pretty devastated by this...but they were able to get by in life...for a short while anyways. Things got even worse when, while working on his moonshine running car on October 2, 1948, Grandpa Richard abruptly suffered a heart attack and died. Now, my father and uncle were left orphans...they had a very uncertain future ahead of them, for sure. They were the last two living Mulligans alive, and the survival of their small family depended upon them...

With no next of kin to look after them, my Dad and Uncle Scott wound up being placed in a local orphanage. My father told me it was possibly the most _horrible _experience in his life. The orphanage was dinghy and terribly run-down. Both my father and Uncle Scott were _terribly _and _cruelly _mistreated during their short stay at the orphanage. They were both rather frequently badly beaten up by the other orphaned kids-my father in particular due to his eyepatch, as they considered him a freak. Aside from beating him, they often taunted him by saying that no one could ever adopt someone like him. He couldn't even talk about this without _crying_...I can only imagine how terrible it must have been for Daddy and my uncle. Even worse than that, they were also mistreated by the owner of the orphanage, a rather cruel old female weasel. She frequently _starved _them both and cruelly whipped them for even the slightest mistakes. My father told me he was in absolute _fear _that no one would want to adopt him or his brother and that he'd never make it out of there alive; that they were both sure to die in the orphanage. How _awful_...I guess times have changed a lot, because there'd be no way nowadays they'd ever allow such terrible mistreatment to happen!

Luckily, help was on the way for them. Both my father and uncle were saved by a middle-aged couple. David and Alice Hopkins, a married pair of ferrets, came to the orphanage one day looking for a child to adopt, as they had tried hard for years to have children, but alas, found that they were unable to have any. They saw how terribly abused my father and uncle were and, feeling terribly sorry for both of them, decided to go so far as to adopt _both _of them. Heartlessly enough, the orphanage's owner actually went so far as to try to _dissuade _them from adopting my father, saying that he was nothing but trouble and would cause nothing but mayhem and headaches for them. I'll never fully understand how they _ever _let such a horrid, abusive woman run an orphanage and take care of kids. But fortunately, Mr. and Mrs. Hopkins had good common sense, and they managed to adopt both my father and my uncle. While my father knew they were not his real parents (they weren't even the same species as he was), he was always grateful to them for rescuing him from the cruelty of the orphanage and always kept in close touch with them, even writing to them occasionally after he'd moved us to Canada.

The Hopkins' soon put both my father and uncle back in school, and soon they began to grow up and experience the joys of youth. Uncle Scott was quite popular with the ladies, and always seemed to have quite a lot of girlfriends he'd bring home with him. My father, on the other hand...was not so lucky. A lot of the ladies considered him somewhat of a freak due to his missing eye and eyepatch...a lot like the kids in the orphanage. It was _very _unfair for him to be treated as such for being a little different...it probably didn't help he was a tad awkward as a teenager, but it still wasn't _right_. It appalls me to this day knowing that some people out there can be just so terribly shallow and callously cruel. My dad once told me he thought he was probably destined to be alone for all his life and even once briefly contemplated ending his own life...I was _very _shocked to hear that!

But luck would change for him soon enough. In his last year of high school, a new girl came to the school that my father was quickly smitten with. Her name was Allison Ringtail (no relation to Maxie or her wealthy family; Ringtail happens to be a common last name among us raccoons), and she would ultimately become my mother. She was beautiful, kind-hearted, spirited, and passionate...she sounded a _lot _like me from what my father told me! I could easily see how my father fell for her. She had the ambition to work for the _Louisville Courier-Journal_, the largest newspaper in all of Kentucky, as a photojournalist...I wonder where I got the inspiration from! My father approached her soon after she first started coming to his school, afraid that like every other girl she'd met, he'd be rejected for being a hideous freak. He was quite surprised when they actually really hit it off with one another! She quickly grew to like my father, and soon enough she fell for him, too. Before they graduated from high school, the two of them started dating. Unfortunately, her parents were not as nice. They were _vehemently _opposed to her dating my father, considering him a freak as well as going so far as to order her to break up with him in favor of who they truly wanted her to be with. But wisely, my mother chose not to listen to her parents, much to their anger and chagrin. She chose to listen to her heart rather than them. I really applaud her for doing that. If two people truly love one another, then I think they have every right to be together, and no one should tear them apart, regardless of what they may think of them.

My mother and father's relationship really started to heat up as they moved in together with one another shortly after graduation. However...things heated up a little _too _quickly. After about two years of living together, my mother discovered something that would change their lives forever...she was pregnant. Her parents were _absolutely _outraged upon finding out about this, as she ultimately chose to withdraw from the college she was going to at the time to focus on having and taking care of the baby. Her father went so far as to actually _threaten _my Dad by pointing a loaded shotgun at his head for getting his little girl pregnant. My father, wanting to do the right thing and be there for my mother and the upcoming baby, decided to quickly marry her and take on a job at a local automotive factory to help support his new family.

Soon enough, the big day arrived. On November 25th, 1960, their new baby was finally born in a small Kentucky hospital, much to their delight. Of course, that baby was...me!

* * *

I weighed all of just six pounds and five ounces when I was born...I was definitely a tiny little thing when I came into the world! My parents decided to name me in honor of my mother's recently deceased grandmother, Melissa Ringtail. In spite of the not so happy circumstances, both of my mother and father were very happy to have become parents. They never felt regretful that they had me. The same could not be said for my mother's father, who, upon seeing me as a baby, refused to accept me as a member of his family. He promptly had nothing more to do with my Mom, as he felt she had done a masterful job at screwing up and destroying any chance she had at a good life. I never met my maternal grandfather, and seeing how much of a royal jerk he was, I don't think I would have wanted to...My Mom knew she had made mistakes, my father told me, but she never regretted them. She couldn't regret the chance to be a new mother; it was an opportunity she relished. She was eager to raise me and help guide me though life...

But, tragically...she would _never _get that chance. Only about four months or so after I was born, my mother became ill. It started off simply at first as she felt a little sick from time to time, but soon it became worse and worse, to the point where she was beginning to have trouble getting out of bed in the morning and ended up spending a lot of days there. My father took her to the hospital to find out was wrong with her and see if he could get help for her. But upon seeing the doctor, my father received some of the _worst _news he surely ever heard in his life...My mother had breast cancer. She'd actually had it for months, even while she'd been pregnant with me. She hadn't noticed it much at first, but it was rapidly spreading throughout her body and the disease had her in its grip. My father told me he tearfully pleaded with the doctor if he could help save her life...but much to his sorrow, the doctor told him there was nothing that could be done for her. Technology had not advanced enough, and there was no really effective way to be able to truly treat cancer. He was told it was too late for her and the disease was terminal. My mother only had a few months left to live...

Grief-stricken, my father stayed by my mother's side as the disease continued to rapidly worsen over the next several months. She soon became so ill that she couldn't leave her bed at all as she was in so much pain and misery. My father had to take care of me while she suffered in bed. My father felt truly heartbroken knowing his young wife, the mother of his child, was in so much pain and in sheer agony. He wanted so badly to be able to help her and ensure that she'd live, but just felt so helpless knowing there was nothing he could do to help save her. All he could do for her was just be there to comfort her in her dying days...

Finally, the saddest day in my father's whole life came. It was July 21st, 1961. My mother was so terribly weak, she could hardly speak as she was just in so much pain. My father kept trying to reassure her that a miracle would happen and that she would recover soon enough. Mom didn't buy it, though, as she knew her time was coming. And my father knew he was only fooling himself...he could tell that she was probably not going to live to see tomorrow; death had her firmly in its' cold grip. As her strength began to completely fade, my mother grabbed my father's paw and had him make a promise to her. She asked him to promise her that he'd look after me when I was growing up, and do everything in his power he could do to make sure I'd have a good life. Mike tearfully promised her he would do everything he could for me, and told her he'd never let anything bad befall me.

And then she was gone. Right after he'd made his promise to her, my mother closed her eyes for the last time as she passed away. At least her suffering was over and she was no longer in any pain. But the pain would not end soon for my father. He was forced to bury her in a local cemetery as he was totally stricken by grief, having lost his young wife so early on in life and being forced to raise me all by himself. My mother was just 22 years old when she passed away; it just seems far too _young _to die of such a terrible illness. But sadly, cancer can strike anyone down at any age...The fact that I never got to know my mother has _always _haunted me. I wonder what it would have been like had she lived and been there in my life...but then again, had she lived, my life would have certainly turned out very differently. I might never have left Kentucky...I'd have never gotten to meet my wonderful hubby, or any of my dear friends here in the Forest!

Seeing as my mother's family had a long history of cancer in their past, I always feel a little worried that I might come down with the disease myself. The possibility of that happening is in my blood...oh, I just _hope _that doesn't happen! I couldn't begin to imagine how grief-stricken poor Ralph would be knowing he might lose the love of his life, and how scared my poor little Michael would be knowing his Mommy was sick and that she might not get better. At least in this day and age with improved technology, I'd have a better chance of being saved, but still...I _hope _that never happens to me! But...seeing as I never got to know my own mother, perhaps that would help explain more of why Michael is just so special to me. I have an opportunity that my own mother did not have...the chance to be there in my child's life. The chance to help see Michael through life and be there for him when he needs me. I have the chance to be the mother that I never got to have...and I'm making the most of the wonderful opportunity I've been given.

Anyways, my father was forced to raise me alone without my Mom. Without his wife to help him out, Dad found it _very _difficult to raise me, at first. It was very overwhelming for him having to take over both his fatherly roles _and _the roles my mother would have filled had she not died. He soon became full of doubt on whether or not he could raise me by himself. It actually got to the point where my father began to feel he could never possibly keep me. He actually felt he could never keep his promise to my mother. He found it just too overwhelming to look after me, and actually went so far as to plan to give me up. He was planning to give me to an old high school friend of his named Jim Peterman, a wolf who happened to work with him at the factory and lived nearby, and his young wife, who had yet to have any children. They'd volunteered to take me from him and raise me as their own child. When my father told me this years later, I was actually _aghast_-I could hardly believe the man who had raised me had seriously contemplated giving me up!

But, just as my father was about to give me up, he began to realize he'd grown too attached to me. He spent more and more time bonding with me as I grew bigger, and soon he started to feel more of a connection to me. His mind was firmly made up one day when I was about a year-and-a-half old. That day, I said my first word: "Daddy!" That sealed it for my father. He knew right then that I had already grown too attached to him, and there was no way he could break his promise to his late wife by giving me up. He vowed from that moment on that he'd keep his promise and make sure nothing bad ever happened to me. I'm certainly grateful Dad did that, because...well, if he'd given me up, who knows what could have happened to me or how my life might have turned out...?

I don't really remember anything about the first two-and-a-half years or so of my life...which is just as well, as I'm pretty sure that no one does. I've never met anyone who said they COULD remember being an infant! I have a few scattered memories here and there from then up until I was four, but there's one memory that's always stuck out in my mind...

My father would sometimes take me to the local park to play with the other young kids my age. I always had fun playing with the other children...but there was one thing that I remember always bothering me...all the other children were there with their fathers..._AND _their mothers. I couldn't help but feel...different. I wondered why all the other children had mothers, and why I didn't have one. What had happened to my mother? Did she exist? If she did, where did she go to? I just didn't know...I was too little to put all the pieces together...

So one day, I was playing in the living room of the small house I spent the first few years of my life in. My father was sitting on the sofa, discussing things with his friend Jim. They'd had a long day at work and they were just chatting about things as they unwound themselves. It was just another ordinary day around my house, really...

Suddenly, I was drawn away from the toy penguin I was playing with. My eye happened to catch a glimpse of a picture hanging on the wall above me. I'd glanced at this small picture before...but this time I felt _really_ drawn to it.

In the picture, I could see my father, holding a tiny raccoon kit in his arm, with a big smile on his face. I guessed that the little kit was me as a baby...I knew about babies, but I didn't really know where they came from...But there was also someone else in the photo. Standing next to my father was a lady raccoon with an equally big smile on her face. She bore a rather striking resemblance to myself. My father had his other arm wrapped around her...I couldn't help but wonder: could that be my mother...?

I couldn't help it, I just felt compelled to ask my father about the picture. "Daddy...?" I asked.

My father turned around to look at me. "Eh, not now, Melissa. Daddy's busy talkin' with your uncle Jim. I'll be with ya in a minute, alright?"

"But Daddy..." I pleaded with him, "I wanna talk to you..."

"What is it?" my father quizzically replied.

"It better be good..." Jim said under his breath.

"Daddy, come here," I quietly said.

My father got up off the sofa and walked towards me. "Alright, Melissa. I'm over here. Now, what d'ya want to talk to me about..?"

I pointed up towards the picture hanging on the wall. "Daddy...look at that picture."

My father glanced at the picture. A sense of realization came across his face-I think he knew _exactly _what I was going to ask him about...and he didn't seem all that eager to answer _that _question.

"Er...what about it, honey?" my father shrugged, trying to dodge the subject.

"Ya knew you'd have to tell 'er someday, didn't ya, Mike?" Jim chimed in from the sofa.

"Tell me 'bout what?" I asked.

"Er...nothin'! Nothin', sweetheart," Mike nervously chuckled. "What did you want to ask me about that picture...?" he gulped.

"Daddy...is that me in that picture?" I innocently asked.

"Why...yes, Melissa. That's you when you were just a tiny little thing!" my father replied, breathing a sigh of relief.

"Well, Daddy...who's the lady in the picture...?" I asked my father.

A pained expression came across my father's face...even though I was just a little girl, I _knew _it was something he didn't want to talk about. "Er..." he fumbled around, looking for words. "Well...I...She...ulp!"

Jim scowled at his friend. "C'mon, Mike, ol' buddy! She wants to know...tell 'er!"

"Alright..." my father sighed. "Melissa...that lady is..." He had a hard time finishing his sentence.

"Is who?" I wondered.

"Go on, spit it out," Jim tried to encourage his friend.

"Melissa...That woman is...your mother..." Dad sadly sighed. It was a relief for him to have finally told me that...but I could tell it pained him a lot to have to tell me that.

But it was just as I thought. The woman in the photograph _was _my mother. "Daddy...Where is she?"

"Where...is...she...?" Dad croaked out.

"Yeah!" I cheerfully exclaimed. "I wanna know where my Mommy is! Daddy...all the kids have Daddies _and _Mommies. What about me? Why don't I have one? Where is she?"

"Ooh," Jim remarked. "Tough question there, Mike..." he said as he headed for the door. "Good luck there, ol' pal!"

"See ya, Jim..." my father quietly remarked as he tried to explain what had happened to my mother. "Well..." my father stumbled around for words again. He clearly didn't know how to tell me the sad news. "Melissa..." he heavily sighed. "Your mother...she's not with us anymore..."

"Not with us...?" I curiously asked. "But why?"

"She...She _left _us, honey..." my father sighed, a few tears welling up in his eyes. It had to be painful to talk about my mother...

"Where did she go?"

"She...She...er..." My father was just trying his hardest to explain to my younger self that I would never see my own mother. "Melissa, she left us...to...to be with the angels..." he finally finished as a few tears started to trickle down his face.

"With the angels?" My Dad had already told me about the concept of the afterlife...as best he could explain it to a young kit. "You mean she went to...'Eaven?"

"Yes, sweetheart," my father sighed again. "She went to Heaven to live."

"Will she come back...?" I innocently asked.

"_No_, Melissa," my father solemnly answered me, more tears trickling down his face. "She'll never come back..."

"Never...?"

"Never," was all my father could quietly say.

"But why can't she come back?" I was only three-and-a-half years old; I didn't really know much about the concept of death. I had no way of knowing that once someone was gone, they could never come back...

"Because she's needed up there in Heaven more than she's needed here," my father replied, more tears welling up in his eyes.

"Oh...But Daddy..._will _I get to see her someday?" I was hopeful I _would _meet her someday, someway...

"Sure ya will, Melissa...sure ya will," my father lightly smiled. "If you're a _really _good girl, someday ya might get to meet her. But that won't be for a very long time...I hope..."

"I hope I do meet her..." I smiled at my father. I was always an optimistic little girl...

"I'm sure ya will," my father said, tears welling up in his eyes once more. "But until then, honey...I'm all you've got. I'm here for ya honey...I won't let anything happen to ya. I'm always here to help you...if ya need me..."

"I know..." I smiled, a few tiny tears coming to my little eyes as well. "Daddy...I love you..."

My father scooped me up in his arms and gently hugged me as tears trickled down his face. "I love ya too, Melissa...I always will..."

I knew my father would always be there to look out for me...

* * *

When I was little, I was definitely a curious little child. I was always asking questions about...well, pretty much everything! I wanted to know a lot of things...I wanted to know a lot about the world around me. My father always considered me a very bright little girl.

But aside from being curious, I was also very playful. Sometimes, I used to tire my father _out_..._  
_

I can remember one day when I was four...my father had come home from home late. His friend Jim's wife, Sharon, had babysat me while he'd been at work...I was still about a year away from starting school. My father was plain exhausted and was just reclining on the sofa, watching some television. We had an old black and white set with a pair of rabbit ears perched on top. Back then, pretty much everyone had a black and white TV...I can remember back then they only had maybe three or four channels to watch! Goodness, how the times change...now they have a couple hundred channels for almost anything you could imagine!

Anyways, my father was trying to get some peace of mind when I came running into the living room. I tugged on my father's pants leg.

"Daddy! Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!" I eagerly exclaimed.

My father groaned...he didn't really feel like doing much of anything with me right now. "Urrggh...What is it, Melissa? What d'ya want?"

"Daddy, I wanna play!" I happily said. I always loved playing with my father.

"You want to play..." Dad said, obviously taken aback. "Ah...Melissa...your Daddy had a very long day at work and I'm just _worn _out. We can play another time, maybe..."

"Awww..." I moaned. "But Daddy...I wanna play!" I definitely didn't take no for an answer when I was a little girl! "We can play for just a little bit, can't we...?"

"But I'm _tired_, honey..." my father repeated himself._  
_

"Please, Daddy?" I begged, giving him the most adorable look I could give him.

My father could hardly say no to my smiling face. "Well..." he yawned as he stood up and stretched his arms up. "Alright, Melissa. But just for a little while, alright?"

"Okay, Daddy, I promise!" I nodded my head.

"Alrighty then...Well, what do ya want to play?" he asked.

"I wanna go for a piggyback ride, Daddy!" I eagerly beamed. That was one of my favorite games to play when I was a little kit...I always loved going for a ride on my father's back while he pretended to be a pig or a horse or some other kind of animal.

My father smiled as he stooped down and scooped me up in his arms. "Well...sure thing, sweetheart," he beamed as he placed me on his back.

"Wee!" I couldn't help but giggle.

My father then stooped down and got on all fours. "Well, are you ready for a ride, Melissa?" he turned around to look at me.

"I'm ready, Daddy...heehee!" I giggled.

"Well, alright...Giddyup!" my father laughed as he started to bound around the house on all fours. I clung onto his back, giggling all the while.

"Wee! Haha!" I couldn't help but laugh.

"You havin' fun back there...Melissa?" my Dad asked as he continued to gallop around the living room much like a racehorse.

"Ooh, yes, yes, Daddy!" I giggled. "This is so much fun!"

"Heheh...I'm glad you're havin' fun back there!" my father beamed at me. I could hear him mutter something under his breath that sounded like "Boy, if Jim and the other guys at work saw me actin' like this, I'd never hear the end of it..."

He wasn't watching where he was going as he bounded around the living room. "Daddy, watch out!" I shouted.

"Huh, what are y-AGGGGHHHHHHH!" my Dad grunted as he hit the end of the sofa head first. I tumbled off his back and landed on the ground, flat on my back.

"Oof!" I groaned. "Daddy...I said watch out!"

"So ya did..." Dad groaned as he rubbed his head.

"Are you alright?" I asked, feeling worried my father might have hurt himself.

"Yeah..." my father grunted, though he didn't sound so sure of that. "I'll be alright, honey. I'm just gonna feel that in the mornin'..."

"That's good..." I muttered. "Daddy, can I go for another ride?" I eagerly asked.

"I think that's enough for one night, Melissa," my father shook his head as he got up to his feet. "Besides, it's almost your bedtime, young lady."

"Aww...Can't I stay up tonight...?" I groaned. When I was little I always wondered why Dad got to stay up later than I did.

"No, honey...ya need to get your sleep..." my father said. "Come along, let's get ya ready for bed..."

Soon I was in my pajamas as my father tucked me into my little bed. I can remember my old bedroom a bit...I remember the walls being painted hot pink...

"You comfy, Melissa?" my father asked.

"I think so," I smiled.

"Alrighty then...Goodnight, Melis-" But my father didn't get to finish, as I quickly interrupted him.

"Daddy, I can't go to sleep yet!"

"Why not...?" my father sighed.

"Well...Daddy...I want a bedtime story," I smiled at him.

"You do, hmm?" Dad curiously asked me.

"Yes, please, Daddy," I smiled. "Can you please read one to me?"

"Well...sure thing," my father nodded as he got up off my bed and headed over to the tiny bookcase in the corner, checking out some of my storybooks. "How about '_The Snoopy Little Kitten'_? Ya told me that was your favorite book..."

"It is...but I already heard that one!" I laughed.

"Well, alright..." my father shrugged as he placed the storybook back on the shelf. "Hmm, how 'bout '_The Little Engine That Could'_?" I could see my father cringe a little bit as he pulled that particular book out...he was a bit unnerved by the cover. "Yeesh..." I could hear him say under his breath. "That engine is...kind of creepy..."

"You already read that one, Daddy, remember?" I smiled.

"Well...okay," my father remarked as he placed that book on the shelf too. He quickly pulled out the next book on the shelf. On the cover was a man in Medieval clothes riding atop a horse. "Ah, how about this one? '_The Bravest Of Them All'_. I don't think we've read that one yet, have we...?"

"I don't think so," I nodded. "Read it to me, Daddy!"

"Okay then," Dad smiled as he sat down on the bed next to me and opened up the book, making sure to show me the pictures along the way. "Alrighty...Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess, one of the fairest in all the land," he began.

"How beauty-ful was she, Daddy?" I curiously asked. I really _was _the most curious kit around...

"Well...Probably not as beautiful as your mother was, but I'm sure she was quite beautiful," my father shrugged. He turned the page and continued. "But something went wrong. Her father, the King, married a wicked queen. She thought the princess was more beautiful than she was. She was very jealous, so she had the princess locked away in a tower, guarded by a terrible fire-breathing dragon," he said as he showed me a picture of the princess locked in the tower with the dragon glaring at her through a window.

"Why would she do that to her daughter, Daddy?" I wondered.

"When people get jealous..." my father explained, "they can do some pretty mean or nasty stuff."

"Oh," I replied.

"Anyways," my father flipped the page and read on some more, "only someone with a heart of gold could save the princess from the terrible tower. Many knights throughout the land tried to rescue her, but none were able to. None of them could defeat the dragon. Years passed, and the princess was still locked in the tower." He showed the picture of the dragon breathing fire as many knights ran away in fear.

"That dragon sounds mean, Daddy..." I remarked.

"Well...I guess that's how dragons are," my father replied. "But one day, one man decided to rescue the princess. He was nothing but a lowly peasant-" I interrupted my father at this point.

"Daddy...what's a peasant?" I asked curiously, as I had never heard that word before.

"What's a peasant...hmm..." my father thought for a moment. "Well, Melissa, a peasant is someone who doesn't have a lot of money and has to work very hard to earn any. Harder than I do."

"Oh, okay," I nodded. "Please keep reading, Daddy..."

"Alright, now where was I-oh yes! He was nothing but a lowly peasant. But he had something the other knights didn't have...a heart of gold," my father smiled at me as he showed me a picture of the peasant.

"How did he save the Princess?" I asked.

My father turned the page again. "So he decided to head towards the castle to save the princess. He took his horse and set out for the castle. Along the way, he found a sword in a lake and a shield hidden deep in a forest." He showed me a picture of the peasant on horseback, with his sword and a shield.

"Then what happened?"

"After a long and difficult trip, he finally made it to the castle. But the terrible fire-breathing dragon greeted him when he arrived." He showed a picture of the peasant standing before the menacing dragon.

"Did he beat the dragon?" I wondered.

My father flipped the page again. "Many of the knights who had tried to face the dragon had been scared, but the peasant was not. He believed he _could _beat the dragon and save the princess. After a long battle, he was able to finally defeat the terrible beast." My father then showed me a picture of the peasant standing victorious over the slain dragon.

"Then did he save the Princess?" I eagerly asked. I always loved a happy ending.

"The peasant was able to save the princess from the prison that was the tower. The princess was so happy that the peasant rescued her that she gave him a kiss," my father smiled as he showed me the picture of the princess and the peasant sharing a kiss.

"Aww, Daddy!" I giggled. "Did they live happily ever after?"

My father turned to the last pages of the storybook. "The wicked queen had passed away by this time-" I interrupted my father again.

"Daddy...what does 'passed away' mean?" I wondered.

"It means that they went to Heaven if they were good...or they went down there if they were bad," he said, pointing to the ground.

"Oh, alright then," I smiled. "But did they live happily ever after?"

"Well..." my father said as he turned back towards the book. "The wicked queen had passed away by this time, and the grateful King was so happy he made the brave peasant a knight. The new knight and the princess were soon married. And they lived happily ever after," my father smiled as he showed a picture of the knight and princess getting married.

"Aww, Daddy...That's sweet!" I couldn't help but giggle. I guess I was a hopeless romantic even when I was little! "Daddy?" I asked him.

"Yes, Melissa?" my father asked back as he got up and placed the book back on the shelf.

"Do you think I will find someone like the peasant...?" I curiously asked.

My father didn't know how to reply to that question. He knew someday I would grow up and that there would be a day coming that boys would come knocking on the front door...it couldn't have been pleasant for him to imagine my future dating days..."Well...How would I know that, Melissa?" he shrugged.

"You know a lot, Daddy!" I smiled.

"I may know a lot, honey, but I don't have the answer to _everything_..." my father shrugged again. "I haven't an idea."

"But do you think I _might _meet someone like that...someday?" I hopefully asked.

"Well..." my father sighed, thinking of a good answer to that. "I hope someday ya will find someone like the peasant. Someone with a heart of gold..."

"I hope so too, Daddy..." I smiled as I yawned.

"Tired now, huh?" my father laughed.

"Yeah, Daddy..." I yawned again.

Dad leaned down and gave me a goodnight kiss on the cheek. "Night, Melissa. Sweet dreams. I love ya...I always will," he warmly smiled.

"I love you too, Daddy..." I smiled as my father turned out the light and shut the door to my bedroom. I soon nodded off to dreamland.

Someday I _would _find someone with a heart of gold...but that would be many years away. For now, things seemed to be pretty happy in my young life.

But they wouldn't stay happy for terribly long...

**END CHAPTER TWO**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **Whew! I can't believe it took me almost a month, but...finally, I finished the second chapter of Melissa's story! Feels good to have this one out of the way...Again, this is more of an introductory chapter, but we're starting to get somewhere. Next time around, we'll get into her story proper...It seems Melissa's family has had a rather sad history as many of her ancestors died quite young! Anyways, a few notes.

Melissa being of Irish decent...I actually looked up the last name I gave her family, "Mulligan", to see what her ancestry would be. Turns out, Mulligan is an Irish last name...so naturally, I went with Melissa being of Irish decent. I'm well aware that in real life, raccoons could never live in Ireland as they're only native to North America...but remember, the Raccoons is a show that (in later seasons) takes place in a world populated with anthropomorphic creatures. Many of whom aren't native to Canada. You ever seen aardvarks, alligators, or rhinos in Canada outside of a zoo? Didn't think so. If in my stories the Raccoons takes place in a world entirely populated by anthromorphs, I think I am allowed to throw reality out the window, and thus, Melissa _could _be of Irish decent. I hope no one complains about that. I also figured it would make sense if Melissa's family came to North America as the result of the Irish Potato Famine, as...well, that's why many people today of Irish decent's ancestors came to the US and Canada.

The ship Melissa mentions her ancestor Graeme sailed to America aboard, the SS _City of Glasgow_, was an actual ship in real life. She was built in 1850 for the Inman Line and was that particular company's first steamship. You might be wondering why it is that her great-great-great grandfather arrived in Philadelphia rather than New York where most passenger ships would travel to...Having a bit of an interest in old ships, I can say the real _City of Glasgow_ actually DID sail that particular route-Liverpool to Philadelphia. I remember seeing an image of a sketch of the actual ship in Philadelphia harbor...As for what Melissa says ultimately happened to the ship, that's actually true, too. The _City of Glasgow _set sail from Liverpool on March 1, 1854, but she never reached Philadelphia and was never heard from again after she left port. Nearly 500 people were lost aboard her and nobody knows what happened as no one survived. Most likely she was overcame by a storm or struck an iceberg...Alas, as Melissa says, sailing WAS quite hazardous in the 1800s. The radio hadn't been invented, many steamships still carried sail as well, and if a ship was to encounter trouble out in the Atlantic, she was on her own. The _City of Glasgow _was hardly the only ship to be lost without a trace...The SS _President_, one of the earliest transatlantic steamships, set sail from New York for Liverpool on March 11, 1841, was seen struggling in a gale the next day, and was never heard from again; 136 people were lost aboard her. The Collins Line's SS _Pacific_ set sail from Liverpool for New York on January 23, 1856 with roughly 200 people aboard her; she never reached her destination and in 1991, her wreck was (supposedly) discovered just 60 miles from Liverpool at the bottom of the Irish Sea (but if she sank that close to land, how come no debris was found?) Another Inman Line steamship, the SS _City of Boston_, left Halifax for Liverpool on January 28, 1870 with 191 people; she never made it to Liverpool and some people speculated a "dynamite fiend" placed explosives aboard her that blew her up out at sea (which seems a little ridiculous). And the White Star Line's SS _Naronic_, a cattle-carrying cargo steamship, left Liverpool for New York on February 11, 1893 with 74 crew and cattlemen aboard her, and never reached her destination; the only trace of her found were two empty lifeboats adrift at sea, and a few messages in bottles that claimed the ship struck an iceberg (like her future sister ship _Titanic__)_ in a fierce blizzard. Needless to say...I'm glad I wasn't around back then as sailing was _definitely _more hazardous than it is nowadays...

Geez, I really gave poor Mike a tough past, didn't I? Orphaned at a young age, abused terribly in the orphanage, lost his wife at a very young age, and...well, you probably already know what'll happen next, that'll be a couple of chapters away...Is it any wonder he ended up being a pretty grouchy character in Ralph's story?

Seeing as in my stories Melissa grew up far from the Evergreen Forest, this story will have quite a lot of original characters...you met the first in this chapter, Jim Peterman, Mike's friend from Kentucky. I named him after the original keyboardist in the Steve Miller Band (fun fact of the day: Boz Scaggs was once in the Steve Miller Band). I think you'll see more of him in the next chapter...as well as many more OCs along the way. May take a while to think all of them out!

Anyways, that's Chapter 2. Next time around, we'll get to meet Melissa's Uncle Scott, see Melissa have a dream in which she "meets" her mother, her early school days, and Uncle Scott has some terrible news for Mike and little Melissa...Hopefully I'll get to that soon!


	3. Chapter 3: Trouble Is Brewing

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**: Well, this story is slowly moving forward, but with this chapter we should be finally making some decent progress. Our first chapter featured Melissa introducing herself to the reader and sharing her thoughts and feelings on her friends and loved ones and why they were important to her. Last chapter, Melissa shared her...rather depressing family history (a lot of her ancestors died young or tragically), and we got to see a few glimpses of Melissa as a little girl, learning that she will never see her mother and hearing Mike read her a bedtime story. This chapter...we'll finally be getting somewhere. In this chapter, we'll meet Melissa's Uncle Scott, a junkyard owner, who is...Well, quite a character. Basically, he's a...well, a Southern Bert :D Very goofy, hyper, and carefree, and Mike's opposite in almost every way. But alas...this is the only chapter you will see him in, as at the end of this chapter, he's shipped off to Vietnam, and Melissa will never see him again...alive, that is...So this is definitely going to be a sadder chapter. Although there will be a few other things you'll encounter in this chapter...Melissa having a dream in which she "meets" her mother (something that I think will be recurring throughout her story), and more cute father/daughter bonding as Mike starts to teach Melissa how to play baseball...

So anyways, let's dive into...

**CHAPTER THREE: Trouble Is Brewing  
**

So, I'm sure you've already heard me mention my father had a younger brother, my Uncle Scott. Like my father, Scott had a rough upbringing, having been abused during his time in the orphanage. But it didn't seem to affect him much in the long run...he was...well, he was interesting, to say the least!

My father and I used to visit him from time to time when I was really little. He owned his own junkyard with his business partner, Clifford Usry. I always enjoyed visiting him, and, needless to say, I miss him terribly to this day...

One day, when I was about four-and-a-half years old, I was playing with some of my stuffed animals while my father was busy cooking dinner for the two of us. He'd had a long day at work; he was looking forward to unwinding that evening.

That's when the phone rang. "Daddy!" I cried out. "The phone's ringing!"

"Hold on a second, I'll get it!" My dad put down the cooking ladle as he ran to the phone. "Yellow...?" he asked as he picked up the receiver.

I overheard my father's conversation with the person on the other end of the line. "Uh-huh...Yeah...Ah, no problem, Scott! We'll be over there as soon as we can!" He then hung up the phone.

"Daddy...?" I asked. "Was that...Uncle Scotty?"

"Yep, Melissa," my father nodded. "That was your uncle."

"What does he want?" I curiously responded. I always _was _nosy when I was little...

"He want us to drop on over by his place. He's got somethin' or other he wants to tell us. Somethin' important, he said..."

"Ooh, we're going to visit him?" I eagerly smiled. "Oh, Daddy, I _love_ Uncle Scotty!"

"Yeah, I know," Dad remarked as he grabbed his car keys. "I guess we're eatin' at his place. Come along Melissa, let's head on over there an' see what he's up to."

My father and I piled into my Dad's old Studebaker as we headed for Uncle Scott's house. His house was a fair ways away from my old home; Uncle Scott basically lived on the opposite side of Louisville from where we lived.

After a while, we arrived at his house. The old junkyard was actually part of his own property; basically, it took up his entire backyard. There were tons of rusting car hulks littering the lot. We drove up near the sign that read "MULLIGAN & USRY SALVAGE YARD" and got out.

My father knocked on the front door of the house. "Yellow, anyone home in there?"

The front door swung open as my father was instantly greeted by his younger brother putting him in a headlock and rubbing his knuckle playfully across the top of his head.

"Haha, _gotcha_, big brother!" Uncle Scott laughed. "C'mere, you...what are ya gonna do now, huh? Huh?"

"HEY!" my father yelled out in protest. "Cut it out there, Scott...knock it off already! _ENOUGH!_"_  
_

"Heheh, sorry, Mikey, ol' boy. I love messin' with ya!" he chuckled in his thick Southern accent. Uncle Scott was nearly the polar opposite of my own father, from how I remember him. Dad could be very stern, serious, and generally kept to himself, while Uncle Scott was goofy, carefree, and quite a social raccoon. While my father was short and stout, Uncle Scott was tall and gangly. And while my father was often considered unattractive, Uncle Scott was...Well, he was quite a hit with the ladies, it seems! Bert reminds me _quite_ a lot of him...now that I think about, my father and uncle's relationship was pretty similar to Bert and Ralph's!

"Dangit, I hate it when ya do that, Scott. I wish you _wouldn't _do that!" my father growled. My uncle's antics seemed to get on his nerves quite constantly...

"Hey, I'm only foolin' around, big brother!" he laughed. He then turned his attention towards me.

"Hi, Uncle Scotty!" I brightly beamed.

"Well, well," Uncle Scott laughed as he scooped me up into his arms and hugged me. "If it ain't my favorite little niece!"

"I'm your only niece!" I giggled.

"Yeah, ya are," he smiled as he put me down. "Boy, Melissa, you sure are gettin' _big_! I remember when you was just a tiny little sprout!" Uncle Scott smiled as he held his paws a short distance apart.

"Oh, I am!" I smiled. "Daddy tells me I'm a big girl now!"

"I see that," he grinned. "When you startin' school, Melissa?"

"Daddy tells me I should be goin' to school next year!" I beamed at him. When I was little, I actually _did _have a bit of a Southern accent...although you would never guess that now since I've long since lost it having lived in Canada for so many years!

"I'm sure you'll do A-okay, Melissa," Uncle Scott nodded. "Well, don't just stand there like a couple o' trees! Come on in!" he jovially exclaimed.

We followed Uncle Scott into his house as we took a seat on the couch, with Uncle Scott kicking back in his reclining chair nearby. "So, how's the automotive industry treatin' ya, Mikey, ol' boy?" he smirked.

My father groaned as he didn't particularly like talking about his job at the automotive factory...I _definitely _remember he hated it, but he needed the money..."Crummy as usual, Scott. Workin' long hours for not enough pay...There ain't no fun to it. If I ever find anythin' that pays better, I'm sure to quit it!"

"Well, I'm sure somethin' or other'll come 'long soon enough!" Scott grinned. He _always_ seemed to be smiling.

"Here's hopin'..." my father growled. "So how's the _junkyard _been treatin' ya?" he shot back, noting the fact that Uncle Scott was covered in grease.

"Well, it's been quite a day, big brother!" he continued to happily smirk. "Cliff an' me took the radiator out of an ol' '53 Hudson Hornet today! Real nice car, I gotta say. Shame some folks just throw their ol' cars away when they don't want 'em anymore, ain't it?" Uncle Scott was quite a resourceful raccoon from what I remember. He did at least try to salvage parts from the old broken down automobiles so he could sell them off to people who needed them. He _really _liked taking cars apart and seeing how they worked...

"Well, when you've got a clunker, you've got a clunker," Dad shrugged. I was just listening to their conversation, not really understanding a lot of what they were saying as I was too young at the time.

"Saved the harmonic balancer from that ol' car, too," Uncle Scott chuckled. "You know I've been savin' up a bunch of the old parts from some o' the cars I took apart, don't ya?"

"I remember! You told me about that," I smiled as I walked over to him and he scooped me up in his lap. "What are you goin' to do with them, Uncle Scotty?"

"Well..." my uncle thought for a moment, "I've been savin' up all 'em spare parts 'cause one o' these days, when I got enough, I'm gonna build me my own car...from the ground up!" Uncle Scott, for all his goofiness and his general comical attitude, _did _have a lot of mechanical know-how...surely he inherited that from his father. I honestly do believe he actually _could _have built his own car had he had the chance to do so...

"You're _crazy_, Scott," my father scoffed at his younger brother's idea. "Build your own car? Ya know, it takes me and about six other people to work together buildin' cars at the factory," he rambled, "and how on earth do you plan to build one _all _by yourself!? With a bunch of old spare parts, might I add!"

"I ain't doin' it alone! Me an' Cliff'll start from the wheels and then we'll go from there. You watch, Mikey, ol' boy, I'll prove ya wrong!" he cheerfully jumped up in excitement, causing me to fall off his lap and tumble onto the floor.

"Ooof!" I groaned as I hit the floor.

"_Scott!_" my father growled at his brother, worrying he might have accidentally hurt me.

"Oh, sorry, sorry!" He picked me up off the floor. "You okay there, Melissa? Didn't mean to make ya fall," he smiled brightly at me.

"I'm alright, Uncle Scotty," I lightly smiled back at him.

"Ah, well, that's good!"

"Can I ride in the car when you build it, Uncle Scotty?" I smiled at my uncle.

"Sure ya can, kid! Once I get 'er built you can ride in 'er anytime," he nodded. Sadly, I never _would _get to go for that ride...

"So that's what ya had us come over here for?" my father raised his eyebrow incredulously. "To tell us you're gonna work on buildin' your own car?" He didn't like coming all the way out to my uncle's house just for nothing.

"Well, no," he smirked. "I got somethin' else I want to tell ya. Somethin' kinda important..."

"Ooh, what is it, Uncle Scotty? Will I like it?" I eagerly asked. I always loved surprises...

"I'm sure ya will, kiddo," my uncle smiled at me as he patted me on my head. "Now, big brother...I'm sure ya know I got the reputation as quite a ladies' man," he chuckled a bit.

"Were you _ever_," my father shrugged. "Sheesh, it seemed to me like ya came home with a different girl ev'ry week when we were in school!"

"Oh, I'm not _that _big a hit with the gals," Uncle Scott couldn't help but laugh. "I ain't got nothin' on them dang Beetles. Good gravy, it seems like half the young gals in this country is crazy for 'em!"

"Ooh, I love the Beetles!" I happily chirped. When I was a little girl, I _really _did love the Beetles...well, probably everyone who was young in the '60s did! They were on TV all the time, after all...you couldn't go anywhere _without _hearing them. "When I grow up, I'm gonna marry Paul!" I innocently giggled.

"Huh..." Uncle Scott scratched his head. "Well, you're at least dreamin' big, kid. I do like that," he laughed. "Boy, did you see 'em on Ed Sullivan Mikey, ol' boy!"

"Who hasn't," my father muttered. He didn't particularly care for the popular music of the day.

"Boy, they were _terrible_!" he chuckled. "I can't b'lieve those guys could get any woman they want...they ain't got no real talent! Ah well, come this time next year, I bet ya no one'll remember 'em. Just a passin' craze, ya know." How wrong he'd end up being... "Whatever happened to ol' Woodchuck Berry, anyways? Used to love 'im...Now _that _was good music."

"Ain't heard anything by him in years," my father shrugged. "Beats me..." It was quite a surprise that I'd actually end up meeting the famous '50s guitarist so many years later!

"Ah, well, anyways, gettin' back t'what I was sayin'," Uncle Scott stated, "I'm sure ya know for the past year I've been datin' Miss Emily Thomas, don't ya know?"

"Oh, I do!" I chirped. Emily Thomas was Uncle Scott's girlfriend. She was working to get a job as a nurse in the same small hospital I'd been born in. She was quite a nice lady; I did like her from the few times I met her.

"I'm surprised you've stuck with her a whole year," my father shot back at him.

"Well...I guess she done reeled me in, 'cause...guess what?"

"What?" I asked, curious to know what he was about to tell us.

"Well...I'm marryin' 'er!" my uncle grinned the widest I'd ever seen him grin.

"Awww, Uncle Scotty!" I smiled. I couldn't help but find it sweet hearing that my uncle was planning to get married. What can I say, I _always _was a sucker for romance. "You're gonna marry Miss Emily?"

"Sure am, kiddo!" he continued to excitedly beam.

"Well..." Dad quietly said, obviously rather surprised by his brother's revelation. "Well, what d'ya know? My little brother is actually gonna settle down! You actually asked her to tie the knot?"

"Sure did!" Uncle Scott continued to cheerfully smile.

"Well...That's great, little brother," Mike smiled at him. "I just hope ya aren't plannin' on messin' around with any other women in the near future!"

"Ah, those days are behind me, Mikey, ol' boy!" he beamed. "Miss Emily's the only gal for me!"

"Aww, when are you gonna marry her, Uncle Scotty?" I smiled at him. When I was little, one of the things I wanted to see the most was an actual wedding. I just thought the idea of two people being joined together for life was so sweet...

"Well, we don't know yet," he shrugged. "We're thinkin' some time by year's end, but I dunno. We ain't got nothin' set just yet."

"I can't believe my little brother's actually willing to settle down with someone," my father shook his head. He still seemed to be in disbelief.

"Had to happen someday!" my uncle continued to beam. "Hey, Mikey, ol' boy?"

"Yeah...?"

"When the big day comes, how'd ya like to be my best man, big brother?"

"You'd really want me to be your best man?" Mike said as he got up off the couch. Scott put me down on the floor and walked towards my father.

"'Course I would! You're my brother, after all," he smiled, placing an arm around my father. "Sure, I like to fun around with ya an' all 'cause you can be a real bummer sometimes, but you're still my brother, and ain't nothin' gonna change that! Ya hung in there when Allie passed on, an' you're doin' one fine job takin' care of lil' Melissa! I couldn't ask for a better big brother if I tried!"

"Thanks, Scott...I'd be honored to be your best man," my father smiled.

"Ooh, what about me, Uncle Scotty?" I wondered if I could take part in the eventual wedding...

"Well, kid, you can be the flower girl! How's that sound?" my uncle grinned at me.

"Oh, I'd love that, Uncle Scotty!" I happily exclaimed. I wasn't entirely sure what a flower girl actually did, but I just couldn't help but look forward to seeing my uncle actually getting married. It would be quite a happy occasion, no doubt...

But little did I know that that happy day would _never_ come...

* * *

In my high school days, I was definitely quite the athlete. Aside from playing on the girl's hockey team, I was the pitcher for my high school's softball team. I was definitely quite the natural back in the day...even to this day, I can still throw quite a fastball! I just can't wait until my little Michael gets just a little bit bigger...I can't wait to teach him how to play! Ralph'll surely help teach him too (I still remember him teasing me from time to time when I was pregnant with Michael that he surely had to take after me seeing how often he kicked me...Ralph joked that Michael was gearing up for his first baseball game. Honestly...Ralph, sometimes!), even though he's...well, to be honest, not much of an athlete at all! But...it'll certainly be a nice way for us to bond as a family.

But, I wasn't _born _with that talent. You have to get your start somewhere along the line...

I remember one day near the end of the summer of '65, I had wandered into my father's bedroom one afternoon while he was watching television on one of his few off days from work. I couldn't help it...I _was _a very curious and sometimes mischievous little kit. I always wanted to know more about things...Sometimes my curious nature could get me into trouble...

"Hmm..." I said to myself, gazing towards my father's closet, "I wonder what's in there?" I couldn't help it; I was just so curious to know what was in my father's closet...

I was just big enough to be able to reach the closet door's knob. I turned the knob to open the door...

...but as I did, a _bunch _of stuff fell out of the closet and landed in a jumbled heap on the floor. Luckily, none of it hit me. But I _knew _I was going to get in trouble with my father for being nosy...

"Uh oh..." I said to myself, feeling a little scared.

Sure enough, my father came rushing into the bedroom having heard the loud noises. He was _definitely _upset at the big mess he saw...

"Aw, what in the Sam Hill, Melissa?!" my father snapped, sounding _quite _mad at me. "It took me forever to get all that stuff in there...Now I gotta put it all away again! What were you _doing _in there?"

I shivered a little, feeling fearful. "I...I...I only wanted to see what was in there...Daddy..." I innocently said. My father never whipped me when I was a child, but he _did _often punish me when I did something bad by giving me time outs and sending me to my room. I never liked being punished..."I'm...I'm sorry, Daddy...Please don't send me to my room..."

My father was definitely still upset, but he did calm down upon seeing how scared I actually was. "I'm not gonna send you to your room, Melissa...but you've _got _to stop being so nosy! You shouldn't be snooping around in my bedroom...if you aren't careful, one of these days being nosy is going to get you hurt! I don't wanna see that..."

"I...I understand, Daddy..." I meekly nodded.

"I'm gonna let ya go this time, Melissa, but next time I'm gonna send you to your room with no supper. You understand me, young lady?" he sternly warned me.

"OK, Daddy..." I nodded, feeling relieved my father wasn't going to punish me...even though I knew I _probably _should have been.

"Great, now I gotta pick all this stuff up and put it back in there," Dad grunted. "Boy, is _this _gonna be a lot of fun!" My father began to pick up the various pieces of old junk to toss them back into the closet.

But as he did, I couldn't help but notice something sitting among the big pile. I spied two old catcher's mitts and an old baseball. I did at least _know _what baseball was...I'd heard a few games on my Dad's old radio. I couldn't help but feel curious...

"Daddy?" I asked him, tugging on his leg.

"What!?" Dad looked down on me, obviously still not very happy with me.

"You played baseball?" I curiously asked him.

"Huh...?" My father stooped down and found the mitts and the ball. "Huh..." I heard him mutter to himself. "I'd almost forgotten about _these_..." He picked them up and turned his attention towards me. "So you want to know if I played baseball, do ya?"

"Yes, Daddy...did you?" I wanted to know.

"Well, of course I did! Every young boy I knew played baseball back in the day...we always had a good time playin' when we were kids. Your Uncle Scott and I used to take turns playin' catch...but he was always better than me. I actually DID play on my school's team..."

"Were you any good?" I eagerly asked.

"Well...er...uh...no," my Dad sighed, looking rather embarrassed. "I was actually _really _terrible...our whole team was, really. We lost just about ev'ry game we played...As I said, our whole team was bad, but _I _was the worst on the whole team," he sighed again.

"Aww, Daddy...I'm sorry to hear that..." I said, feeling a little sorry for my Dad.

"Yeah...I was the shortstop, and I couldn't catch the darn ball to save my life," he cringed. "I was bad at bat too...I never scored a run in my _life..._" he shook his head in disgust. "Only times I ever got on base is when I got hit by the ball..."

"Maybe you've gotten better, Daddy!" I smiled cheerfully at him. I was always optimistic even when I was little.

"Nah...I haven't played since I got outta school," my father admitted. "Why'd you ask me about it, anyways...?"

"Well, Daddy," I beamed at him, "I wanna play baseball!"

"You...do...?" My father was certainly surprised. But then again, he was already used to being surprised me; I wasn't your typical little girl. I never liked playing with the doll set my father had gotten me for my third birthday...but I _loved _to go outside and play. I didn't mind getting dirty at all, and quite often I'd come in the house after spending time outside playing covered in bruises and scrapes. I was active even when I was little!

"Ooh, yes, yes!" I cheerfully exclaimed as I jumped up and down, putting on an adorable face. "Can we play, Daddy? Can we...?"

My father could hardly say no to my innocent little face. "Well...alright, Melissa. Just let me get ev'rything else put up and then we'll go outside and play, alright?"

"Yay!" I cheerfully jumped up. I couldn't wait for my father to teach me how to play...

Soon, my father had finished stuffing everything in the closet and he had taken me outside so we could play catch together. My father was fitting one of his old mitts onto my paw.

"Ooh, it's a bit big for me, Daddy..." I said as he fit it on me. It _was _definitely a little bit big for my small paws...

"It may be a bit big now," my father said, "but I'm sure you'll grow into it." He finally managed to get the glove to fit. "There we go! Is it on, Melissa?"

"I think so," I smiled at him. "You ready, Daddy?"

"Sure," he nodded. "I think we're ready." He then backed away from me and stood a good distance apart from me.

"What are you doin', Daddy?" I asked. I didn't know what he was doing...

"Well, we're playin' catch," my father said, tossing the ball up in the air. "It's quite easy, Melissa. I'll throw you the ball and you try to catch it. Sound easy enough for ya?"

"I think so," I nodded.

"Alright. Heads up, Melissa!" my father shouted as he tossed the ball my ways, making sure not to throw it _too _hard since he didn't want to accidentally hurt me.

I jumped up in the air to try to catch it...and landed on the ground flat on my back. The ball had sailed right over my head.

"I didn't catch it, Daddy..." I sighed as I got back up on my feet.

"Ah, that's alright, Melissa. It _was _your first time tryin' to catch a ball, after all," he warmly smiled at me. "You'll get better at it, I'm sure."

"I hope so," I smiled.

"Alright, Melissa, now toss it back to me and I'll try again. Maybe you'll do a little better this time," he tried to encourage me.

"Okay!" I beamed as I ran to the baseball, picked it up, and threw it back to my father.

But he was _quite _surprised by how hard I actually threw it. It _almost _hit him in the arm.

"Woah!" my father jumped, definitely surprised by how hard I threw it considering my young age. "Careful there, Melissa! You almost hit me..."

"Sorry, Daddy!" I apologized. I was surprised at how hard I'd thrown it myself.

"It's alright, honey," my father smiled as he grabbed the ball. "Alright, Melissa. Keep your eye on the ball!"

We kept playing for a little while, but not once did I manage to catch the ball. Once, I _did _catch it...only for me to drop it on the ground as soon as I did. I was beginning to get a little frustrated at the fact that I just _could _not catch the ball.

"Daddy, I tried to catch it so many times...but I just can't do it! Why?" I wondered. I felt I was doing pretty _badly_...

"Well, you're only a beginner, Melissa," my father warmly smiled at me. "You're not doin' too bad for a beginner...you'll get better with practice, trust me!" My father threw the ball to me once again...and once _again _it sailed over my head, landing in some bushes behind me.

At that moment, my father's friend Jim Peterman walked up as he was coming home from work. "Hey, fancy seein' you out here, Mike!" he slapped my father on the back. "You missed quite a lot down at the factory today! Len Blankenship accidentally got all the fingers on his paw cut off..."

"Yeowch," my father cringed. "I'm _glad _I missed that! Poor Len..." Dad shook his head. "Any day I can get out of the factory's a good one! I'm tired of slappin' wheels on new cars..."

"Well, there aren't many other places hirin', what can ya do?" Jim shrugged.

I managed to find the ball in the bushes and saw Jim standing next to my father. I remember that he was actually _shorter _than my father...abnormally short for a wolf. "Hi, Uncle Jimmy!" I cheerfully waved to him.

"Oh. Hiya, kid," Jim waved back. "Mike...what are you an' Melissa up to, anyways?"

"Well, we were playing catch," Mike explained.

"Catch...?"

"Yeah!" I grinned as I cheerfully jumped up. "Daddy's gonna teach me how to play baseball!"

"Baseball...?" Jim looked completely surprised by that revelation. "Mike, you're teachin' her baseball?"

"She wanted to, I figured, why not?" my father nodded.

"Uh, but ain't that a boy's sport?" Jim asked. Jim, I remember, was _quite _old-fashioned. His mind was more rooted in the past rather than the future. He didn't understand why a girl would want to play baseball.

"Yeah, so?" Dad shrugged.

"Shouldn't you be playin' tea party or dress up with 'er or somethin'? I mean, that's what little girls like to play, ain't it?" Jim was certainly being rather on the sexist side of things...

"Jim, I'm not sure you realize this, but my little Melissa ain't most girls," he shoved Jim, scowling at him. "She's...well, she's _special_! I think she's got a really big future someday; I just have this _feeling _she's gonna make me really proud when she grows up. Whatever she wants to do, I'm behind her! If she wants to learn how to play baseball...then I'm gonna teach her how to play baseball!" he proudly beamed.

"Huh. Well, if she's gonna learn how to play baseball," Jim snorted, "then she could learn from better than you. Ya _WERE _the worst player on our whole high school team, after all..."

"Please don't remind me," my father winced remembering how terrible he must have been.

"Maybe _I _could teach her. I was one of the good players on the team, after all!" Jim boasted, sticking his chest out in pride. He always seemed to be kind of a braggart..."Give me the mitt, Mike..."

"Fine...here ya go, Jim," my father sighed as he took off his mitt and tossed it to Jim, who quickly put it on. "Let's see how _you _do."

I tossed Jim the ball and he quickly prepared to throw it back to me. "Alright, kid. Keep your eye on the ball, and maybe you'll get lucky! Here goes..."

Jim tossed the ball...

...and much to my surprise, I actually caught it! I was so surprised that I actually caught it I couldn't help but jump for joy.

"Look, look! Daddy! Daddy! Uncle Jimmy! Did you see me? I caught the ball! I caught the ball!" I was so excited!

"Way to go, Melissa!" Dad smiled fondly at me.

"Haha, see? I _told _ya I was better than you, Mike," Jim proudly smirked.

"Hmmph," my father grunted.

"Alright, Melissa, now toss me the ball and we'll try it again!" Jim shouted to me.

"Okay, Uncle Jimmy!" I cheerfully continued to smile. I tossed the ball back to him...

...but I must have been too excited as I threw it too hard _again_. The ball went straight and hit Jim...right where it would hurt the most for a guy to get hit.

Almost immediately Jim dropped to his knees in pain. "_Jesus...CHRIST...!_" he hollered out in a much higher-pitched voice. "GAAAAHHHH! Mike...what...the..._hell_...is wrong...with...your kid...?" I couldn't help but cover my mouth in shock at what I'd just accidentally done. I just _knew _I was in big trouble.

"Jim...you alright...?" my father asked, concerned for his injured friend.

"How...does...it...look...like...I'm...feeling?!" Jim managed to squeak out as he tried to get to his feet. My father had to help him as he could hardly walk without weakly hobbling around...I couldn't believe I actually hit him _that _hard..."This...is...why...I...don't want..._kids_...!"

"Melissa..." Dad shot an icy glare at me. "You know you're in _big _trouble, young lady..."

I couldn't help but gulp...

* * *

Needless to say, I wound up getting sent to my room without any supper after all that night. It was late in the night and I was just lying down on my bed in the dark, feeling bad for what I'd done. I couldn't believe that had _actually _happened...What can I say? Every kid gets themselves into trouble at some point.

It was at that moment my father opened the door to my room. "Melissa, you still awake, honey?" he asked me as he turned on the light. He sounded a lot more calm than he had been earlier...he'd been _very _mad at me earlier.

"Yes..." I sadly gazed towards him. "Daddy...I'm sorry about what I did to Uncle Jimmy...I didn't mean to do it..."

"I know it was only an accident," my father sat as he sat on the bed next to me and placed an arm around me. "But you gotta be more careful, you know? I know you're only a beginner...but you gotta be more careful. What if you'd have hit _me _like that?"

"Well," I replied, "you'd probably make me stay in here forever...right?"

"I wouldn't make you stay in here _forever_," my father responded, "but needless to say you'd be in a _lot _more trouble..."

"Is Uncle Jimmy gonna be okay?" I asked, just wanting to know if he'd be alright.

"He'll be fine...once he's all...healed up. That's going to be one heck of a story he's gonna have to tell the boss to explain why he isn't comin' to work tomorrow, though!" my father did manage to laugh.

"Daddy, I don't know if I want to play baseball anymore," I sadly sighed. "I hurt Uncle Jimmy...I don't wanna play if I'm gonna hurt someone..."

"Aw, Melissa," my father sympathetically smiled at me, wrapping his arm around me a little tighter. "Just because well..._that_...happened, doesn't mean you should give up playin'! You're just a beginner...you'll get better in time, I promise. If you stick with it and keep practicing, I promise you'll get better, honey."_  
_

"Do you really think so?" I managed to smile.

"Sure. They say practice makes perfect, after all!"

"Well...alright, Daddy. Can we play catch again soon?" I eagerly smiled.

"Sure thing, Melissa. Whenever you want to," my father continued to warmly smile at me. "You know, ya seem to have quite a good little throwin' arm on you already!"

"Do I...?"

"Well, you managed to knock poor ol' Jim to the ground...I'd say so!" my father did manage to chuckle. "I think you might make a good pitcher someday, Melissa," he cracked a smile at me.

"Really...?" I managed to smile.

"Sure, I can imagine in the future you'll be strikin' 'em out left and right!" my father enthusiastically beamed, raising his fist in the air.

I couldn't help but giggle a little. "But Daddy...Uncle Jimmy said I _shouldn't _be playin' baseball 'cause...I'm a girl," I said, feeling more downhearted. "Is that true...?"

"Don't listen to your Uncle Jim," my father was quick to reassure me, "he's not your father. _I'm _your father. Baseball normally _is _more of a boy's sport...but if you want to play it, then I'm gonna help you, Melissa!"

"Aw, thanks, Daddy," I smiled as scooped me up and gave me a hug.

"I mean what I said out there. No matter what you end up doin' with your life, I'll always be behind ya! I do think you've got a bright future ahead of ya, honey," he continued to smile as he placed me back down on the bed.

"How bright...?"

"Well, who knows? Maybe one day...you could be the first woman to ever play in the World Series," he smirked at me.

"Wow, do you really think so, Daddy?" I couldn't help but happily smile. I _know _nowadays that could never have happened...as far as I know, there's never been a female Major League Baseball player...and I honestly doubt I would have been good enough to be the first. I was good, but not _that_ good...

"Sure, why not! You could be the pitcher for the Cincinnati Reds," he laughed. The Reds always were my father's favorite baseball team. "And you can help strike out those darn Yankees and send 'em right back to New York where they belong, the big pack of cheaters!"

I couldn't help but laugh too. "Do you really think I could do that someday, Daddy?" I wondered.

"Well, I don't know what you'll be when you grow up...only you can find out just what it is you're meant to be. But whatever it is you'll be," my father smiled, "I know you're gonna make me proud."

"Thanks, Daddy," I continued to smile at him. "What about Mommy? Do you think she would be proud of me?" I knew my father had told me my mother had went to Heaven and would never come back, but a part of me wanted to believe that maybe my Dad was wrong and that she'd come walking through the door back into our lives any day. I still didn't fully understand the concept of death...

"I'm sure she would be proud of you, Melissa," he flashed a quick grin. "If only she were here..."

"Maybe she will come back someday!" I smiled.

"I wish..." my father sighed. "But ya know what I already told you. She's in Heaven with all the angels...and it'll be a long time before we get to see her again."

"Oh, I know..."

"But you'll see her someday when you're much bigger and much older, I promise," my father continued to smile fondly as he tucked me into my quilts, as I was already ready for bed.

"I hope I do," I smiled back.

"You will. Now...good night, Melissa," my father said as he kissed me on the forehead. "Sweet dreams."

"Night, Daddy..." I said as I laid back. He quickly turned towards the door and closed it behind him as he left.

Soon, I was drifting off into dreamland. But the dream I would have that night was...well, it certainly wasn't one I was expecting...but one I can still remember quite vividly...

I suddenly found myself in a large, dense forest. A place unlike any I'd ever seen before. I'd only ever seen the forest in books at that age...I had no idea that I was eventually going to actually live in one.

I didn't know where I was at all. "Where am I?" I said to myself. "Where's home? Where's Daddy? I'm lost!" I felt _very _lost...I'd never been lost in my whole life at this point.

Then I came across a clearing and a large pond. A woman was sitting on a rock near the pond, busy fishing and seemingly without a care in the world.

"Hello...?" I asked the strange woman. "Who are you? Can you help me? I'm lost. Please help me find my Daddy!" I said, tugging on the woman's shirt.

The woman turned around to face me. I was _not _expecting what I saw next...

When she turned to face me, I took a close look at her face. I recognized it right away...my father had told me who it was. It was the woman in the photograph on the living room wall...

"Hello, Melissa..." she said in a warm, friendly voice. I have no idea if that was what my mother actually sounded like...I never heard her voice...

"MOMMY!" I excitedly smiled. I couldn't believe it...I was actually face to face with my mother! My father had told me I'd never see her again...and yet here she was, before me! I immediately jumped into her outstretched arms. "Oh, Mommy, I knew you would come back! Daddy said I'd never see you, but I _knew _you'd come back!"

"I'm afraid your father's right..." my mother said in a more sad tone.

"Huh...?"

"Well, Melissa, this is only a dream. I'll never be able to come back...outside of dreams..." she sighed.

"You mean...I'm...dreaming...?" I was a bit confused. It's a bit of an odd feeling when you're dreaming and you actually _know _you're in a dream...It was even stranger seeing my mother in a dream considering I had no memories of her at all!

"You are," she sighed once more. "You'll never get to actually meet me..."

"Why can't you come back, Mommy?" I asked her. I just wanted to know _why_.

"Because that's not how it's supposed to work," she informed me. "Once you go to Heaven, you can never come back..."

"But why not?" I just didn't understand. "Daddy's lonely without you. I want to see you for real!"

"I miss your father a lot too...and I'm sad I can't be there with you to watch you grow up," my mother calmly spoke. "But I can't come back. It just wouldn't be right if I did..."

"It's not fair, Mommy!" I cried out. "It's not fair the angels took you away from us!"

"Now, now, Melissa," my mother reassuringly responded, "you're right, it isn't fair. But...that's how things go sometimes. I didn't want to leave you, but it wasn't up to me to make that choice..."

"I just wish...you were here," I said in a rather sad voice.

"I do too," my mother agreed. "But you still have your father to look out for you, you know."

"I know, Mommy..."

"Your father promised me that he'd do everything he could to make sure you'd grow up okay. There are going to be some really...tough times ahead for the two of you-" At that moment I interrupted my mother.

"Tough times? Like what...?" I wondered what she meant by that...

"I can't really tell you...you'll see what I mean soon enough. But no matter what, your father is always going to be looking out for you...and hopefully make the right choices along the way," she smiled. "You understand, right?"

"I think so," I nodded. I knew my father cared a whole lot about me; he was always telling me how he felt I was going to be something special when I grew up. "I just wish you were here too..."

"Well...I won't be there for you in life," my mother admitted, "but in a way, I'll always be there for you."

"How so?" I wondered how my mother could even be there for me if she'd never been a real part of my life at all.

"Well...whenever you're having problems and don't know what to do," she replied, "I'll always be here in your dreams. Just in case you need some help."

"You will?"

"Sure, I will," my mother nodded.

"Thanks, Mommy," I smiled as she hugged me.

"No problem, my little Melissa...But now, you should wake up!"

I awoke with a start. I looked around for my mother, but she was nowhere to be seen. I was snug in my bed...my mother had been right. It _was _only a dream...

But in a way, I did feel satisfied. Whenever I had a dilemma I didn't know the solution too, I could always turn to my dreams for help...

* * *

Then came one of the saddest moments in my young life to date. The day Uncle Scott left my life forever...

I remember it still to this day. It's stuck with me all these years...It was sometime in October of '65. I was nearly five years old...

I remember one afternoon after my father had come home from work, we were playing a game of hide and seek. My father was hiding and I was trying to find him.

"Daddy?" I called out. "Where are you...? You can't hide from me, Daddy..."

But at that moment, the phone suddenly rang. At that moment, my father dashed out from underneath the kitchen table where he'd been hiding.

"Haha!" I giggled. "I found you, Daddy!"

"I gotta get that," Dad told me. "We can play again in a little bit, don't worry." My father picked up the phone and answered it. I couldn't hear who was on the other end of the line, but I did overhear what my father was saying, even if it didn't all make sense to me...

"Hello? Oh, hey there, Scott. How's life been treatin' ya...Uh-huh...Mmm-hmm...They sent you a letter in the mail? What...? They can't do that to ya. They _can't! _That ain't right, Scott...that ain't right! You're leavin' early tomorrow mornin'? Scott...I'm worried for ya, little brother...We'll drop by tonight to say goodbye to ya, alright? I'll...I'll bring Melissa, Scott...See ya in a bit..." My father hung up the phone. He looked quite concerned.

"Daddy, what did Uncle Scotty want?" I innocently asked. I knew it wasn't going to be good just by the look on my Dad's face...

"Melissa...how...how am I gonna say this..." he sighed, "gosh, this is so hard..."

"What is?" I wasn't prepared at _all _for what he said next

"Melissa...your Uncle Scott is...gonna be going away for a good long while," he solemnly said.

"What do you mean?" I didn't understand why Uncle Scott would leave so suddenly. _Why _would he just leave out of the blue? "Why is he goin' away, Daddy...?"

"Well..." my father placed a finger to his chin, trying to think how he could best explain it to a nearly five year old girl. "He's goin' away...to...fight...in the war."

"The war?" I'd seen the news broadcasts at the time and heard about the ongoing Vietnam War, but seeing as I was only about five years old, it didn't really make a whole lot of sense to me. How could a five year old child really understand the concept of war?

"Yes...the war..." my father nodded.

"Why?" I asked. I didn't know why my uncle would just leave us to go fight in the war...

"Because the government is making him go," my father sadly said.

"The govern...ment...?" I didn't really grasp the full meaning of that word quite yet. "What is...the government, Daddy?"

"I'll explain it to ya when ya get a little bit older," my father replied. "He's leavin' early tomorrow mornin'...and he wants us to drop by and see him before he leaves."

"O...okay, Daddy..." I was still so confused...it didn't really all make sense to me back then. It does _now_, though..._  
_

"Now we better get goin' over to his place real quick," my father informed me. "You ready, Melissa...?"

"I...guess...so..."

We drove over to Uncle Scott's house on the junkyard lot. Uncle Scott was sitting in his reclining chair when we came in the house, looking quite saddened. His fiancee, Emily, and his business partner, Clifford, were gathered around him.

"Hiya...Mikey...ol' boy..." Uncle Scott said in a very quiet voice.

"I can't believe it," my father shook his head. "They drafted you, Scott?"

"Yep," my uncle nodded his head. "They've been houndin' me for months and they finally gots me. They says my country needs me. I gotta catch the Golden Arrow train in the mornin' to go on down to Fort Campbell for basic trainin'. From there...I reckon it's on to 'Nam." I didn't really understand much of what the adults were saying, even though I was listening to their conversation...

"This is so _unfair_," Emily spoke to her fiance in a very saddened tone. "They're not even giving you a choice, dear! They're messing up all our plans...we were supposed to get married in December! What are we gonna do...?"

"I don't know..." Uncle Scott honestly replied. "I guess we'll have the weddin'...whenever I gets back. _If _I get back..."

"You _will _come back, Scott!" Emily tearfully said as she wrapped her arms around my uncle. "I know you will...I _know _you will..." It must have been very emotional for her, knowing that her fiancee was about to leave and that there was the possibility she'd never see him again...

"I can only hope..." my uncle responded, although he didn't sound sure at all. He definitely looked rather afraid...quite a contrast to his normal goofy, cheerful self. "I guess we ain't buildin' that car, Cliff..."

"Sure we will," Clifford enthusiastically said. "We'll build that baby when ya come back!"

"You gotta...you gotta watch the junkyard while I'm gone, a'ight, Cliff?" Uncle Scott asked him. "Don't want anyone stealin' anythin' from here, now..."

"I'll do the best I can, Scott," Clifford nodded. "I just hope...they don't get me too...I _know _they can..."

"I know..." Uncle Scott let out a very deep sigh. It must have been a terrible situation for him. He was being forced to join the US Army to fight in a war he didn't even want to fight, and all the plans he had set up for the near future had been dashed...

"Mikey, ol' boy...this ain't right! It ain't right at all!" my uncle actually started to cry. He was _definitely _pretty terrified of what could happen to him..."They ain't givin' me no choice at all! Why do they gotta force us to join the Army?"

"Damn that President Johnson..." my father muttered under his breath. "I didn't vote for 'im! If they hadn't have killed Kennedy...I don't think we'd be in this situation, Scott..."

"I _know!_" Uncle Scott continued to cry. "Lookit me, Mike...I ain't no soldier! I may be in the right kinda shape to be one...but I can't go over to 'Nam, Mike! I ain't no fighter...I can't kill nobody!"

"I know," my father agreed with him. "You never got in a fight at school. Every time someone tried to beat ya up, you'd always do something silly and you'd end up makin' a friend when you probably should have gotten punched out..."

"I don't even _like _lookin' at blood! Why are...Why are we even in 'Nam anyways? To stamp out all them commies? Why...why do we gotta be the country that pokes our nose into everythin'...?" he continued to moan as he wiped his eyes.

"I dunno..." Clifford shook his head.

"Ask them fat cats up in Washington DC," my father growled.

"I...I'm scared...I ain't gonna come back..." Uncle Scott sighed. "I'm afraid they're gonna snipe me...an' I'll end up coming home in a lil' wooden box..."

"Oh, Scott..." Emily sighed as she wrapped her arms around her terrified fiance, trying to provide some comfort to him.

I just couldn't help but feel so confused and scared...I didn't really know what was going on. All I knew was that they were taking my uncle away and I didn't know why they needed him...Looking back on it, Uncle Scott was right. It wasn't right for the government to make my uncle fight for his country when he clearly didn't want to. They didn't let him have a choice...He surely went through some _hell _at boot camp, and I don't even want to know what he actually _saw _in Vietnam...Had he come back, he almost _certainly _wouldn't have been the same as he was before...

"Uncle Scotty...?" I curiously asked him.

"Oh, hiya, kiddo," he sighed as I jumped up into his lap.

"Why are they takin' you away?" I asked him.

"I ain't got no clue why," Uncle Scott shook his head. "They're makin' me fight an'...an' I don't even _wanna_. It ain't fair that they ain't givin' me a choice..."_  
_

"Can't you ask them to let you stay...?" I innocently asked. I was too little understand that things didn't work that way...

"Kid..." Uncle Scott sighed. "I wish it _was_ that simple..."

"I'm...I'm gonna miss you, Uncle Scotty," I said as a few tears trickled down my face. Uncle Scott stretched out his arms and gently hugged me.

"I'm gonna miss ya too, Melissa..." he solemnly replied as tears ran down his face too. "I'll...I'll try to write ya...if I can..."

"Oh, Scott, there _must _be some way out of this..." Emily said as she was crying as well.

"I just can't think of no good way out..." he sighed. "I'm an honest man...I can't fib my way outta the army...Mikey, ol' boy?"

"Yes...?" my father answered him.

"If they try to get ya too...ya _gotta _find some way outta it. You...You can't let nothin' happen to lil' Melissa here..."

"I promised...Allie...I wouldn't let anything happen to her..." my father replied, "they _can't_ get me," he proceeded to shout out. "They _can't_! I ain't in _the _best physical shape...the army ain't gonna take someone who's only got one eye, are they?"

"I don't know," my uncle replied flatly. "You gotta hope they don't...I...I'd hate to see what'd happen to lil' Melissa if they gets ya too...There'll be no one to look after 'er...an' she's too young to take care of 'erself...I don't want 'er to go through what _we_ did..."

My ears perked up on hearing what Uncle Scott had just said. The government could take my Dad away from me as _well_ as my uncle? Instantly, I felt pretty scared.

"Daddy...?" I asked my father, a very worried look on my face.

"Yes, Melissa...?"

"They're...they're not...They're not gonna take you away too...are they...?" I said, almost in tears at the thought.

My father started to tear up too. "I...I _hope_ not..." I could tell he felt afraid too. He knew if the army drafted his brother, they _could _come after him soon as well...At any time the draft board could send him a letter telling him that he was required to join the army...

"Uncle Scotty...?" I asked him again.

"Yes, kid...?"

"Will I ever see you again?" I asked, as I was afraid that after today, I might not ever see him again...after all, I _had _heard him say that he was afraid he wasn't ever going to come back...

"Well...I'll be sure to write ya and your Daddy if I can find the time," he replied. "You _can _read, right...?"

"Of course I can!" I smiled. My father had already taught me how to read on at least a basic level. But that still didn't answer my question. "But will you ever come back...?"

"Well..." Uncle Scott sighed, "sure. Sure ya will, kiddo. Goodbyes ain't for forever, ya know? You'll see me again when I come back..." But I think even then I knew he was only kidding himself, seeing how afraid he was; I _knew _he doubted he'd ever see home again...But a part of me wanted to believe he'd be back someday.

Sadly, after my father and I left his house that evening, I never saw Uncle Scott again..._alive_, that is..._  
_

**END CHAPTER THREE**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **Well, I managed to finish this chapter in only about three days! Very up and down chapter...humorous and/or cute in some parts, but sad and depressing in other parts...but then again, you knew it probably was going to be one. Melissa has hope for her future, but she's saddened to see her uncle leaving her...forever...Just a few notes this time around.

I had a lot of fun with Scott Mulligan's character. I had the idea of him being rather similar to Bert character-wise...so that's basically what I went with. I figured if I was only ever going to get to use his character once, I'd better make him at least a memorable one! For as silly as I made him, he's definitely ambitious (wanting to build his own car out of used parts from the cars in his junkyard and all) and someone who seems like he'd be fun to hang around with. I honestly feel kind of sad his character has to die...Hard not to feel bad for the poor guy being forced to join the army when he didn't even want to, right when he was on the cusp of being married...His prediction of what will end up happening to him ends up coming (sadly) true...

Yeah, I figured I had to reference the Beatles (or their Raccoons world counterparts, the Beetles) in here somewhere...hey, if I'm writing about the mid-1960s, you kind of _have _to expect a reference to them somewhere! Yours truly has heard pretty much all the Beatles' songs and has (most) of their albums on CD...but I thought it would be fun to have Scott take the opposite viewpoint of mine and call them talentless. When Beatlemania swept America in the mid-'60s, a lot of older people did think they'd just be a passing fad...and nowadays there are probably kids born already knowing half the words to "Yellow Submarine"...

Melissa's dream about her mother...as she said last chapter, the fact she never got to really know her mother haunts her to this day, so it would figure she'd probably have dreams about her mother. As I said, I think these dreams will be recurring throughout her story. From to time when she's faced with a problem she just can't seem to solve, her mother shows up in her dreams and helps her out.

Next time around, we'll see Melissa's early days at school (I said in the last chapter you'd see that in this one, but I ended up getting some more ideas and as such, you'll have to see it next chapter), you'll meet some of her early childhood friends, and poor Mike starts getting pressured as the army starts to come after him, leading to an embarrassing situation between him and his friend Jim (poor Jim's going to get quite a lot of abuse in the few appearances he'll make in this story, as you might have guessed) that he has to explain to Melissa...And of course, Mike and Melissa getting the sad news that Scott was killed in combat...


	4. Chapter 4: Ups and Downs

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**: Well, it's been more than two months since I wrote the last chapter of this story...Let's just say a lot has happened since then. I actually TRIED to write this chapter once, and completed most of it...and then realized I didn't like how I'd written it and (for the first time ever) decided to completely start this chapter over from the beginning. It's funny; I thought this story wouldn't be all that difficult to write (considering it's a companion piece to "Story of Ralph", my first story I wrote), and yet I've been SEVERELY frustrated writing this one. There's been several reasons for that...but now, I hope to get this story back on track! (I intend to complete every story I start, even if it takes me years to do so!)

Anyways, last time around, we met Scott Mulligan, Melissa's long lost uncle who was only vaguely mentioned in several previous stories. Scott was...an interesting character, to say the least...he was basically a more realistic (and heavily Southern) take on Bert. A character who comes off as pretty likable and someone who would be a lot of fun to hang out with. I had a lot of fun writing for him, which makes me feel somewhat bummed out knowing I can never use his character again (his character HAD to die in order for Melissa to ultimately end up in Canada). Unfortunately, in this chapter, Mike Mulligan gets the terrible news that his younger brother died in combat in the Vietnamese jungles. This'll be a bit of a sad chapter, to say the least...and to make matters worse, Mike receives a letter telling him that he's being drafted into the Army as well. You see him get out of it in this chapter, but alas, it won't last long...Let me just say the next chapter will be QUITE a big one. In this chapter, we also see Melissa going to school for the first time, where she quickly experiences frustration when she tries to play with the boys and they rebuff her because they don't want to play with a girl...It won't be the last time that happens in this story, either. It's another one of those bridging chapters (maybe THAT'S why I've had a hard time writing this one...those are always the least exciting chapters and the most drab to write), but it should be a nice leadup to the big events occurring in the next chapter...

**CHAPTER FOUR: Ups and Downs**

And then, before I even knew it, Uncle Scott was gone. The very next morning, he caught the Golden Arrow train to Fort Campbell for basic training. My father went to the train station to say his final goodbyes while Jim Peterman and his wife looked after me until he got back. After that evening where we found out he'd been drafted into the army, I never saw him again...

For a while, Uncle Scott kept his promise. He wrote to us from boot camps several times, and continued to write to us once he was deployed to Vietnam. My father never went into much detail as to what he said; he always just told me that Uncle Scott was thinking about us and that he couldn't wait to see me again once he got back. My father kept those letters over the years...I never actually saw what they said, and my father never really told me much about them until I was well into my teenaged years. Dad told me that Uncle Scott had tried to remain optimistic at first, but soon he began to grow truly terrified, especially so after he'd been deployed to the Vietnamese jungles. My father only shared a few details, but I remember him telling me that Uncle Scott had said in his letters that he'd seen at least a few of his friends he'd made in the Army die right in front of him and that he was constantly being haunted by nightmares of getting his head shot off by the Viet Cong. He evidently was truly fearful that he'd never see home or anyone he loved again. I can't help but feel sorry for my uncle just imagining everything he went through...I just couldn't imagine having to go through so much...

But then, after several months of constant letters, the letters stopped coming. My father wasn't bothered at first, but when more than three weeks passed with no new letter in our mailbox, he began to grow _quite _concerned...

I still remember that particular day. It was late in the summer of 1966...when I was five, almost six years old. My father and I were playing baseball that afternoon after he had gotten home from work. Even though I hadn't wanted to play baseball again after I'd accidentally injured Jim Peterman the very first time I played, I hadn't given up, and just as Dad said, I'd gotten a lot better at catching the ball.

My father was holding the ball as he tossed it up into the air. "Well, that was a good throw, Melissa! But d'ya think ya can catch this one?"

I giggled innocently as I held my paw up in the air, eager to catch the ball. "Of course, Daddy! You told me I would get better with practice! Look at how good I'm getting!"

My father chuckled. "Heheh, well, okay, Melissa. Here goes!" My father tossed the ball towards me.

I leaped up a bit and, much to my delight, caught the ball. "See, Daddy? I told you I would catch it!"

"Well, you weren't kidding," my father chuckled. "You've caught all but a few of my throws!"

"Daddy, this is too easy!" I beamed, as I tossed the ball to my father, which he quickly caught. "Give me something tougher!"

"I think that's enough for today, Mel," my father said as he took off his mitt. "I had a long day at work and it's high time I got some rest."

"Aw, c'mon, Daddy..." I said in a rather sad-sounding voice, trying to coax him into him playing a little more...

"We can play anytime, Melissa, y'know that," my father shook his head. "But right now Daddy needs some rest, okay?"

"Okay..."

As my father and I went back to our house, Dad had the presence of mind to check the mailbox, as he hadn't collected the mail for the day yet.

"Daddy, did we get a letter from Uncle Scotty?" I hopefully asked my father as he thumbed through the mail. I always looked forward to getting a letter from him, and I was disappointed he hadn't written to us in several weeks.

My father quickly looked to see if a letter from his brother had come. "No," he sighed. "I'm afraid not, Melissa. No letter today."

"Why hasn't he written us, Daddy?" I asked. I guess I was your typical kid back then: always thinking that my father knew the answer to everything.

"...I'm afraid I don't know, honey..." my father sighed again. He was clearly worried himself as he hadn't heard from his brother in weeks; I think he had a hunch that something had happened to him..."Perhaps he's just really busy."

"When do you think he'll write us?" I wondered.

"I don't know...we'll just have to see," my father sighed once more.

At that very moment, my father and I both heard a voice that was rather familiar to us..."Hey, Mikey!" It was another one of my father's friends, Len Blankenship, a wallaby. Like Jim Peterman, he had been a friend of my Dad when he went to school and, like Jim, had also worked alongside him at the automotive factory. However, he had an accident on the job the year before that caused all of his fingers on his right paw to be sliced off. He'd had to seek employment elsewhere afterwards as he couldn't really put cars together anymore, seeing as he had little more than a stub for a right paw. But I remember he had trouble finding a job...

"Well, if it isn't Len Blankenship!" my father managed to crack a smile at his old friend, reaching out to shake Len's good paw. "How's the job search been goin', pal?"

"Ah, not so good," Len sighed. "Sad to say a lot of places ain't hirin' lately. No luck so far..."

"Maybe you'll get lucky soon enough," my father tried to look on the bright side.

"Well, I'm hopin'. My wife just had our daughter an' I need that money for the kid," Len sighed. "If only I'd have watched where I placed my paw..."

"So your wife did have the baby after all?" my father raised an eyebrow.

"Yep," Len nodded. "I'm a Daddy now. I always wondered how it'd feel...well, right now, I'd say it feels pretty darn good!"

"I've had ups and downs here with Melissa," my father replied. "But in the long run, I'm sure it'll turn out a'right for you!"

"Uncle Lenny," I smiled at my father's friend. "You're a Daddy now?"

"'Course I am, Melissa," Len smiled as he rubbed my head.

"Can I see the baby...?" I hopefully asked.

"Sure ya can. When she gets a lil' bigger, I might even ask you to babysit her," Len continued to smile at me.

"That sounds like a fun idea!" I couldn't help but beam. Sadly, I never saw Len's daughter...I can't even remember what her name was. It started with an S, but I just can't remember..."Hey, Daddy?" I had something on my mind that I'd been wondering about for a while, and I felt now was the time to ask my father.

"Yes, Melissa?"

"Daddy...where do babies come from?" I curiously asked. "I know they come from somewhere...but where...?"

My Dad's eyes immediately grew large as an expression came across his face that basically said "Oh, crap!" He knew the day would come when I would ask that question...When I was older, my father always told me he found it so hard to explain things such as the facts of life to me. That was a role my mother surely would have filled had she not passed on...He rarely ever came across as weak, except in situations like these...

"Uh...erm..." My father stumbled for an answer, but couldn't come up with one.

"Ooh, that's quite a tough question," Len managed to chuckle. "Whatcha gonna tell her, Mikey?"

"Erm...ah...Well, Melissa..." he continued to stumble around. "Well, Melissa...when a Mommy and Daddy love each other very much...they...uh..."

"They what?" I eagerly wondered aloud.

"Uh...they lie really close together and...Gosh, this is tough..." He was finding it so hard to explain to a five-year old, but he was doing the best he could...

"And then what?"

"Well...ah...nine months later the Mommy lays an egg, an' then the egg hatches, an' that's where babies came from. That's how you were born!" Dad hurriedly finished, breathing a sigh of relief. "You understand, right?"

"I think so," I nodded. It seemed to make sense to my young mind. "Daddy...? Does that mean I can lay eggs?"

"Errr..." my father's face flushed. "Yes, but not until you get older. You're too young right now, ya shouldn't have to worry 'bout that until you're much bigger. Alright?" For the longest time I sincerely did believe babies hatched out of eggs. It wasn't until I was almost a teenager that my father told me the whole truth on how children were created and that I couldn't actually lay eggs...

"Okay, Daddy," I smiled.

"Golly, I wonder how I'm gonna tell that to my lil' girl?" Len wondered.

"I guess you'll figure it out when the time comes," my father said as he turned to the door and entered our house. I followed him in. "Well, don't just stand there, Len," my father smiled. "Why don't ya come on in?"

"Sure thing, Mikey," Len nodded as he followed us and sat down on the couch across from my father. As I played with my toys, I overheard their conversation.

"Mikey, I've been thinkin'...you know 'bout all this fussin' and fightin' goin' on over in 'Nam, I'm sure. I mean, they shipped yer brother off an' all..." Len began.

"It ain't fair, Len..." my father sighed. "He didn't even _WANT _to go and they made him go anyways. Now how is _that_ s'pposed to be fair?"

"Ah, I know it ain't fair, Mikey," Len nodded. "But ya know, I done some thinkin', an'...well...I'm thinkin' 'bout joinin' the military."

I remember my father being _quite _taken aback at that statement. "_What?!_ Len, ya can't be serious! D'you know what they're doin' over there in 'Nam? I heard all kinds of bad stuff from my brother and the TV...The Viet Cong will snipe your head off!"

"Ah, well, I gotta earn money somehow...I mean...my wife an' baby need the money," Len shrugged.

"Surely there's gotta be another way, Len..."

"Ah, don't worry 'bout me, ol' pal," Len laughed. "I ain't joinin' the army! I'm thinkin' 'bout joinin' the Coast Guard."

"The Coast Guard...?" my father replied.

"Yeah. Don't worry, Mikey, they ain't gonna send me to 'Nam. Most likely they're gonna put me out in the Caribbean or somethin'. I'll probably be trackin' down rum-runners or illegal aliens or somethin'. Nothin' near as dangerous as the Cong...an' besides, I always wanted t'see the Bahamas..." Len filled in my father.

"I just _hope_ ya know what you're doin', Len..." my father sighed. He'd never trusted the US military in his entire life.

"Eh, I'm sure I'll be fine," Len shrugged again as he dropped the subject. From what I remember, Len _did _indeed join the Coast Guard by the year's end.

He then turned his attention towards me. "So, Melissa, you're almost six years old now. Gettin' to be pretty big, ain't ya?"

"Mmm-hmm!" I happily nodded as I flashed a grin at him. "Daddy says I'm a big girl now."

"Yer 'bout ready for school, ain't ya?" Len asked me.

"Daddy says I'll start school next month!" I informed him. "He says I'm gonna learn a lot! Is school fun, Uncle Len?"

"At times, yeah," Len nodded. "Other times...well..."

"Is it hard, Daddy?" I curiously asked my father.

"Well...you'll just have to see for yourself, Melissa," my father responded to my question. "Nothin' me or your Uncle Len could say can really prepare ya for school. You'll just have to see how you like it once you start..."

Len turned his attention back towards my father, when suddenly, a loud knock came at the door and rang out through the house.

"Hrm, now who could that be?" Len wondered. He was about to get up from the couch, but Dad stopped him.

"No, no, Len," my father remarked as he got up from the couch and headed to the front door. "Wonder who that could me," I heard him mumble to himself. "Probably Jim. Boy, Len _and _Jim comin' over to my house at the same time...things could get interestin'..."

When my father opened the door, he got quite a shock, as he certainly didn't expect to see who he actually saw standing at the front door of our old house. There, standing at the front door, was a fox dressed in a US Army uniform.

"Sir, are you Michael Christopher Mulligan?" the fox asked my Dad.

My father swallowed hard. "Yes, sir...that's me..."

I couldn't make out most of the conversation between my father and the fox. I could hear bits and pieces, but it didn't really make a whole lot of sense to my five year old mind.

"Uncle Lenny...?" I asked Len as he pulled me up onto the couch.

"What is it, Melissa?"

"Who is that man? What does he want with Daddy?" I curiously asked. I couldn't make out or understand much of the conversation my father was having with the fox, but from what I could hear it didn't sound good...it had me worried something bad was going to happen.

"Well, Melissa, that's a man from the US Army," Len explained. "Ya can tell by the uniform."

"Okay, but what does he want with Daddy...?" I asked again, as Len hadn't really answered my other question.

"I dunno," Len shrugged his shoulders. "All's I know is that when a guy from the Army shows up at yer front door, it probably ain't good..."

I remember my father's facial expression absolutely sank as he wrapped up his conversation with the Army fox. As the fox turned to leave, my father slowly slunk back towards the couch, a very saddened expression planted upon his face. It looked like he was holding back tears...I just _knew _something bad had happened.

"Well, Mikey? What was all that 'bout?" Len asked, wanting to know _what _exactly had happened.

My father let out a very heavy sigh as he spoke up in a rather solemn, subdued voice. "Len...I...I think ya better go, Len..."

Len looked confused. He didn't understand why Dad wanted him to leave. "Hrm? Why do I gotta leave? C'mon, Mikey, just tell me what happened, ol' pal!"

My father pointed towards the front door. "Len...please...leave. I...I..." He let out another despaired sounding sigh. "I really need to talk about this with...Melissa...alone...if ya don't mind..."

Len looked a bit agitated at my father. "Doggone it, Mikey, anythin' you can tell her you can tell me! Now tell me just what the Sam Hill went on over there."

"I'll tell ya later, Len..." my father's sad voice trailed off. "Right now I need to be alone...with Melissa..."

Len shook his head as he headed for the front door. "A'ight, fine then. Suit yerself, Mikey. I suppose I'll see ya later."

"See ya 'round, Len..." my father sighed again as he turned his attention towards me. I was practically _bursting _with questions for my father...but before I could ask him anything, my father scooped me up in his arms and sat me down on the couch.

"Melissa..." my father sighed once more as he tried to begin, "I know ya saw me talking with that man at the door...an' I'm sure you've got all kinds of questions for me about that..."

"Yes, I do, Daddy!" I replied, curious to know just what was up. "That man was from the US Army, wasn't he?"

"I'm sure your Uncle Len told you that," my father replied as he nodded his head in confirmation. "Yes, he was. That was Sergeant Neil Cunningham," my father explained.

"What did he want?" I asked, practically _dying _to know. I sometimes look back and laugh remembering how curious I was when I was just a kit...I actually see a lot of my younger self in Michael...

"Melissa..." my father stumbled for words. "Urgh...how am I gonna say this...Melissa..." He finally managed to get his composure together. "It was about your Uncle Scotty..."

"Uncle Scotty?" My ears immediately perked up. I was so excited to hear what my uncle was up to, I just wanted to know right then and there. "How is he, Daddy?"

"He's...he's..." My father choked up just _trying _to say it. "He's...he's not alright, Melissa..."

"Huh?" I was confused. "What do you mean?"

"Melissa...I'm afraid...you're never gonna see your Uncle Scott again..." my father barely managed to hold back tears.

"What? Uncle Scotty's not coming home?" I was so confused. I didn't understand _why _he wouldn't come home. I knew he'd said he was afraid he wasn't going to come back from the war, but I had _firmly _believed he'd come back home soon. Now he wasn't coming back at all? "But why...?"

"Because..." my father continued to choke up just trying to say it. It must have been one of the hardest things he'd _ever _had to say. "Because...Uncle Scott...is...is..._dead_," Dad sniffled as a few tears finally managed to slide down his cheeks.

Being that I was only five years old, I had no idea what "dead" actually meant. I'd heard the word before, but it had no meaning to me..."Dead...? What does dead mean, Daddy...?"

My father sighed again as he wiped his eyes. "Melissa...do you remember how I told you that people who are good go to Heaven and that people are bad go to Hell?" he sniffled again.

"Of course I do, Daddy," I nodded.

"Well...that can only happen when that person is...dead...When you're dead, you can never come back...you can never see those who you love again..." my father started to cry once more.

Almost immediately I began to cry as well. This hit me _hard_. I _really _loved my Uncle Scott. He might have been silly and wacky at times, but he had a big heart and I always thought he was a lot of fun to play with. To be told that I was never going to see him again because he was dead was just too much for me.

"Daddy!" I cried as I began to sob. "Uncle Scotty can't be dead. He can't! You said he would come back! You _promised _me! He can't be dead!"

My father sat down on the couch and embraced me in his arms as he cried as well. "I'm so sorry, Melissa...I'm so sorry..." he croaked out.

"Why?!" I cried out. "Why did this have to happen, Daddy? Why? Uncle Scotty didn't want to fight in the war. Why did he have to go?"

Dad tried his best to gain his composure, but it wasn't much use as he couldn't stop crying himself. "Because the government didn't give him any choice, Melissa..._They _took him away from us..."

"I still...don't know what...the government is, Daddy..." I said between sobs. That word had no meaning to me as well. It didn't sound like a nice word to me at all...I imagined the government to be some kind of horrible monster who forced Uncle Scott to fight in Vietnam. Some might say that was a pretty good first impression...

"You're still too little to understand," my father tried to explain, "but I'll just say...they don't care about us, Melissa. They took your Uncle Scott away...they'd have no problems taking me away from you..."

I gasped in terror upon hearing Dad say that. That just made me cry _even _more. I remembered my father had mentioned that he could be drafted the last time I saw Uncle Scott alive, but I didn't really want to believe it...until now. _Now_ I knew that the government could take my father away from me as well. The thought of the government taking Dad away as well was one of the scariest things my young mind could think of. "Daddy, no!" I cried out. "They can't take you away from me...they can't! Can they...?" I sobbed.

"I'm afraid they can, Melissa..." my father continued to cry. "If they think they need me..."

"You can't let them take you, Daddy! You can't! What will happen to me then...?" I bawled. I was _so _terrified that my father was going to be taken away from me; I just couldn't control myself. "Please don't let them take you away, Daddy..."

My father told me years later that it was at this very moment that he made his mind up. Seeing how frightened I was just _imagining _him getting taken away from me made him decide at that moment that there was no way he was going to be drafted into the US Army. At that moment, a warm smile came across my father's face as he wiped his eyes. "Don't worry, Melissa..." he whispered to me as he hugged me tight. "I won't let them take me away...I promise nothin' is gonna happen to me. I _promise_," he smiled as more tears ran down his face.

"Okay, Daddy..." I managed to croak out as I continued to cry.

Uncle Scott was a good man in spite of his flaws; he certainly didn't deserve to die the way he did. There was a lot he wanted to experience in life that he never got to experience...he'd been engaged to be married when he died, and I'm sure he wanted children...

But alas, looking back at it now, I know that for my life to turn out the way it has for me, Uncle Scott pretty much _had _to die...if he'd survived the war, my father more than likely would not have fled the US for Canada, and who knows how my life would have turned out...Still, I just _wish _he could have seen me grow up...

* * *

Uncle Scott's body came home from Vietnam shortly after we received the terrible news of his death. He was buried at the Louisville Memorial Gardens with full military honors. I can only vaguely remember my uncle's funeral...it was such a sad moment in my life that I've pretty much blocked most of the memories of it out of my head. As far as I know, his name is just one of the thousands etched on the Vietnam Memorial Wall.

It wasn't until I was much older that my father actually told me the circumstances of Uncle Scott's death. He had been holed up in the middle of a fierce gunfight with the Viet Cong. In the middle of the battle, one of Uncle Scott's friends he'd made while in the Army, a Siberian Husky by the name of Bryce Grundy who hailed from Wisconsin, had been hit by a bullet in the shoulder and was lying there wounded in the middle of the battlefield. Uncle Scott had decided to risk his own life by dragging Bryce off the battlefield in an attempt to save his friend. Bryce was seriously injured, but he would recover, although he had to have his arm amputated. Unfortunately, Uncle Scott was not so lucky; by choosing to save his friend, he left himself wide open to be sniped. A sniper's bullet found his head and literally blew out his brains. I vaguely remember seeing the Grundy family at Uncle Scott's funeral paying their respects to the man who had saved their loved one's life, although I didn't know why they were there...For his bravery and willingness to put his own life in danger to save a fallen comrade, Uncle Scott was posthumously awarded the Medal of Honor, which was given to my father seeing that he was his closest living relative. I remember asking Dad quite often when I was little what the medal was for; my father explained to me that it was an award given to him to honor Uncle Scott's bravery. I didn't know it was the Medal of Honor until I was older...

Uncle Scott's death greatly affected my father, myself, and all those who knew and loved him...but alas, we all had to move on with life. You can't mope over a loved one's death forever, after all...I remember crying for several days after my Dad passed away, but Ralph was always there to comfort me and tell me to look on the bright side as my family's blood was destined to live on and his death would not be in vain. Like he often is, he was right...

Clifford Usry took over the junkyard after Uncle Scott died, and the last I heard of him, he was still working on building that car out of spare parts that Uncle Scott had so dearly wanted to build because he felt that's what he would have wanted. I'm not entirely sure what ever became of Uncle Scott's fiancee, Emily Thomas...The only time I ever saw her after Uncle Scott left was at his funeral, where she seemed visibly distraught. Other than that, she seemed to practically disappear from public altogether. I'm not sure whatever became of her...it seems rather mysterious she disappeared from the general public. I wonder whatever happened to her?

My father and I took a while to get over Uncle Scott's death, but we eventually managed to come to terms with it. Before I knew it, my first day of school arrived. I'm sure you all remember your first day of school...you were either very excited or very frightened. Me...well...I was quite excited!

I can still remember running into my father's bedroom, jumping right on top of him while he was asleep and shaking him awake...

"Daddy, Daddy!" I excitedly shouted right in his ear. "Wake up, Daddy!"

"Huh...what is it...Melissa..." my father growled, obviously _not _wanting to get up.

"Daddy, don't you remember? It's my first day of school!" I giggled. I _certainly_ couldn't hide my excitement...

"Oh, that's right," Dad replied as he stretched his arms and yawned. "It's finally here. I see someone's excited..."

"Ooh, I am, I am!" I beamed at my father. "I think school's gonna be a lot of fun!"

"Well, we'll see about that," my father responded. "I remember _my _first day of school..."

"It wasn't fun for you, Daddy?" I asked.

"Not really..." Dad sighed. "I never really liked school, to tell you the truth..."

"But I think it's gonna be fun, Daddy," I continued to smile. "There's gonna be so many kids there! I think I might make a lot of friends." I'd played with a few other kids when I was little, but I didn't really have any friends I really spent a lot of time playing with. Part of the reason I was so excited was the opportunity to make new friends...

"Well, alright," my father remarked as he got out of bed. "I see you're already dressed and ready...Let me just go get dressed and we'll be on our way, alright?"

"Alright, Daddy!" I brightly smiled.

Soon, my father and I were in my Dad's old Studebaker and on our way to my school, Buster Cobbs Elementary-the very same school my father attended when he was a little kit. It was all the way on the other side of Louisville, so it was a bit of a drive from what I remember.

Eventually, we reached the school. "Alright, Melissa, here we are," my father turned to me as I unbuckled my seat belt. "Buster Cobbs Elementary. Gosh, this place sure has changed a lot since I was your age..."

"I can't believe you were my age once..." I idly remarked. It can be a little hard for a young child to comprehend the fact that their parents were kids once as well...I imagine my little Michael will probably be surprised to learn that Ralph and I were his age once!

"Well, I was," my father confirmed that fact. "Times have changed a lot since then..."

As I opened the door, my father spoke up again: "Now Melissa, you be sure to be on your best behavior, alright? I don't wanna hear you got in trouble on yer first day of school..."

"Don't worry, Daddy," I giggled. "I'll be good! I'm always good, aren't I?"

"Well...mostly," my father admitted. "Be sure to get along with the other kids, and if the teacher asks you anything, you be sure to answer her, alright?"

"Okay, Daddy. I understand," I nodded.

"Alright...have a great day honey," my father smiled as he kissed me on the cheek. "I love ya, honey..."

"I love you too, Daddy..." I smiled as I stepped out of my father's car and headed towards the school.

As I said, I'm sure you remember your first day of school. Some of you were probably as excited as I was...I just remember being filled with excitement and anticipation when I walked towards my school for the first time. Maybe I was a little naive in thinking school would be nothing but fun...On the other hand, some of you were probably frightened out of your minds...like my hubby was. Ralph told me that he was quite afraid to go to school since he was scared he wouldn't make friends and that he'd be picked on...I just wonder how my little Michael will fare when the time comes for him to go to school...the last thing I want to happen is to hear from him that he's being bullied...

Anyways, I can't really remember too much of my first day of school. I guess it was pretty uneventful. I did play with the other children during our play time, and I do remember answering some of the teacher's questions...but other than that, I can't really remember much. But _one _thing in particular sticks out in my mind...  
what happened when it was time for recess.

"Alright, kids!" our teacher, Mrs. Malloch (a flamingo) called out to us. "It's time for recess!"

All of us happily dashed out of the classroom towards the playground out back. I'm sure all of you remember what recess was like...it's one of the things I miss the most about being a kid. Who doesn't remember playing all sorts of fun games with their friends fondly looking back at their childhood? While I'm glad I'm a fully grown woman now and there are many more things I can do now that I could not do when I was a little girl, there are always times I look back at my childhood and realize how much I miss some of those good times...

I remember looking around and seeing what the other kids were doing. Most of the other girls were either playing hopscotch or skipping rope-activities I never particularly had much interest in. I _always _loved to play a little rough when I was a kid and never minded getting dirty, so I was more interested in what the boys were doing. I could see some of them were playing kickball...and I thought it looked like it would be fun to play.

I walked up to a bobcat once he kicked the ball and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Huh?" the bobcat said (I can't remember his name, or the names of most of the other students I went to school with in Kentucky...my mind is too hazy there). "What d'ya want?"

"Excuse me," I innocently smiled. "I saw you guys were playin' kickball. Can I please play too? It looks like a lot of fun!"

"And why would _you _want to play with us?" a ferret scoffed at me.

"We don't want any icky girls like you gettin' cooties on our kickball," the bobcat growled at me.

I was surprised at how hostile the boys were being to me. I didn't know _what _they were talking about. "Cooties...?" I curiously asked, confused. "What are those...?"

"They're what yucky girls like you have," a boy raccoon, who I remember was called Ernie (I'm not sure why I remember his name...), chimed in.

"I don't have those!" I firmly replied.

"Sure ya do. All girls have 'em," the ferret retorted.

"You...you don't want me to play with you...?" I said in a sad voice.

"That's right," the ferret laughed.

"But why not...?"

"We don't want no icky girls messin' with our ball," the bobcat snorted. "My Dad told me that girls don't play ball!"

"Why don't ya go skip rope with the other yucky girls?" Ernie chuckled.

I was so disheartened at what the boys had said to me that I just sat down on a picnic table for the rest of recess. I'd had such high hopes I'd make new friends...and my hopes were dashed when the boys wouldn't let me play with. I didn't cry, but I _do _remember my feelings really being hurt...

Soon, school was over and it was time for my father to pick me up. I remember cracking a small smile when I saw him drive up, but when I climbed into the old Studebaker, a sad expression clouded my face once again...

"So, honey," my father warmly smiled. "How was your first day of school?"

I turned to my father and he immediately noticed my disheartened face. "I didn't like it, Daddy..."

My father immediately looked concerned. "Aww...why not, Melissa? You were so excited this morning. Did something bad happen...?"

I let out a heavy sigh as I explained what had happened to Dad. "The boys were mean to me, Daddy..."

"They were...?" my father raised an eyebrow. "What did they do to you, honey?"

"They wouldn't let me play kickball with them..." I said as a tear came to my eye. "And they said mean things to me..."

"Like what?"

"They said I was icky and that I had cooties..." I sighed as I cried a little. "And they said that girls should be playin' jump-rope...and that I shouldn't be playing ball with them..."

"Aww, Melissa," my father warmly smiled as he gently wrapped an arm around me. "Don't take what they said too personally. You're a really bright little girl, don't let 'em bring ya down!"

"I just don't understand why they were so mean, Daddy..." I sighed as I stopped crying. Even when I was very little, I'd _always _found romance to be very sweet...but at a time like this, I honestly wondered _why _girls would _ever _want anything to do with boys. "Daddy, do I _really _have to marry one of them when I grow up?"

"Well, ya don't if you don't want to..." my father trailed off. "Look, Melissa, you gotta understand that they're young. They don't really know any better at their age. I think most all boys go through this phase where they think all girls are yucky. When I was your age, I thought girls were icky, too!"

"You did...?"

"Sure did," my father nodded. "But things'll change a lot when ya get bigger, honey. When boys get a little bigger, they start to realize that maybe girls aren't as icky as they thought and maybe some of them are really special."

"They do...?" I realize now that my father was trying to explain puberty to me in an innocent manner...but I didn't know that at the time.

"They sure do," my father nodded his head again. "Happened to me!"

"Then the boys will want to play with me?" I smiled.

"They will when you get older, yes," my father replied. "Things'll really change when ya get older, trust me. Someday, some boy is gonna be watchin' you, and he'll say to himself, 'Y'know, that Melissa Mulligan girl is somethin' _really _special. I would _really _love to get to know 'er better.'"

I smiled a bit hearing my father say that. "Daddy, do you really think there'll be a boy out there who'll find me special someday?"

"Well...I'd like to hope so," my father nervously chuckled, although I could see his face wince a bit. Nowadays, I know that my father had _always _dreaded the day that I'd start going out on dates, because he knew a lot of guys out there weren't particularly nice, and he was afraid I'd get taken advantage of, which saddened him to think about as he didn't want to see me get hurt...He once told me he thought of my first date as "D-Day"!

"But Daddy, one of the boys said that his Daddy told him that girls weren't supposed to play ball," I said, my facial expression sinking a bit again. "Uncle Jimmy told me that I shouldn't be playin' baseball. Why is everyone tellin' me that I shouldn't be playin' ball? Is it wrong...?"

"Well, I already explained this to ya once, honey," my father began to explain, "but some people's minds are rooted in the past. When I was yer age, girls didn't have as many opportunities as they do now. They had even less when my father and his father was little! Why, when my grandfather was little, girls were expected to do nothin' more than work in the kitchen and have babies."

"Really?!" That was _definitely _a shocker to me. "That's all girls could do back then?"

"Well...yeah," my father nodded. "That's all that they were really allowed to do. _Maybe _they could work as teachers or nurses, but other than that, that was pretty much it. But times are changin' fast, Melissa. Women are gettin' more and more opportunities nowadays than they could before. Some folks don't like the fact that things are changin' and they'd rather things stay the way they've always been. But...they'll just have to accept it. You've got a great chance to show anyone who doubts ya that they're wrong."

"I do?"

"Of course ya do! You're got one heck of a throwin' arm, Melissa. Like I told ya, I think you could make history and be the first woman to play in the World Series...if ya try hard enough," my father smiled. "If no one else will believe in ya, I always will!"

"Aw, thanks, Daddy!" I smiled at him. My father _always _had my back when it came to issues like these. Playing in the World Series really _was _my childhood dream...and like most people, I never got to accomplish that childhood dream...

"Anytime, Melissa. Now let's go home, shall we?"

"Okay, Daddy!" I beamed as my father drove home. Even though my first day of school hadn't gone so well, I knew not to let other people get to me. As long as my father believed in me, that was good enough for me then...

* * *

My first school year was a fairly uneventful one...sadly, I can't remember most of it. Like I said, my memories are kind of hazy when it comes to certain things...I'm sure most of you can't remember your early school days particularly well. As I said, I don't remember the names of most of my fellow classmates from my days in Kentucky!

I do know I passed kindergarten with flying colors, though. I was never _the _best student (I never particularly liked writing...I still don't, hence why Ralph helps me write my advice column!), but I never failed a class in my life. I usually made Bs and Cs in my school days...but I never really had to worry about failing a grade or getting in trouble with my father, since Dad always knew what to expect when it came to my grades. I guess you could say I was at least a decent student...

Anyways, I'd just gotten out of school for my first ever summer vacation. Summer vacation is another thing I miss about being a kid...when you're a grown-up with so many responsibilities, you don't have the time to take a summer off...Anyways, as I was saying, I'd just gotten out of school for the summer. It had been nearly a year since Uncle Scott's death, and life seemed to have moved on for me and my father. In fact, I'd almost forgotten that the war in Vietnam was still going on...

But then came a cruel reminder that my happy life with my father could be so rudely interrupted...

I still remember it pretty clearly. I'd been out for school for maybe three weeks as it was early July. My father had recently come home from work and after playing a quick game of catch with me, he'd gotten the mail out of the mailbox. He sat down on the couch as he prepared to sort through the mail, while I was excitedly dancing around him.

"Daddy, Daddy!" I happily chirped. "What did we get in the mail? Is there anything good?" My father always used to tell me what we got in the mail.

"Eh, who knows, Melissa?" my father shrugged. "Don't know until I take a look at it."

"Well, let's take a look at it!" I smiled.

"Alright, alright, honey..." he sighed as he sorted through the mail. "Hmm, bills, bills, bills...nobody I know...bills..." When he got to the next envelope, his one eye nearly bulged out of his head in shock. I didn't know what he'd just seen, but I _knew _it wasn't good.

"Daddy, what's wrong?" I curiously asked, wondering just what he'd seen.

My father said nothing as he hurriedly opened the envelope and read the letter that was contained inside. No sooner than he finished reading it, he tossed it aside as his facial expression immediately sank. I knew _something _was terribly wrong.

"Daddy, what did the letter say...?" I asked, just wanting to know what was up.

My father let out a heavy sigh as he tried to explain to me as best he could. "Melissa...I was hoping this day wasn't gonna come...but..."

"But what?"

"They're...they're...they're tryin' to _get _me, Melissa..." he solemnly replied.

I had a hunch who might be trying to get my Dad. "Who's 'they'? Is it...the government...?" I fearfully replied. I still didn't know _what _the government was...all I knew was that it had the power to take my Uncle Scott away from me, and now it was potentially trying to take Daddy away as well.

My dad sadly nodded his head in confirmation. "...Yes..." he managed to squeak out. "They got your Uncle Scott...an'...an' now they're tryin' to get me, too..." My father had just received a letter from the local draft board that he was required to appear before them that Friday, and he also needed to undergo a physical to determine whether or not he was fit for Army service. If he passed, he would be drafted...

Almost immediately, tears came to my eyes. "No, Daddy! No! They can't take you! No! No! No!"

"I'm sorry, Melissa..." my father sighed as he just stared down at the floor glumly, not sure how to respond to me.

"Daddy..." I tearfully pleaded with him, "please don't let them take you away...I don't want you to go away...Who will take care of me?"

"D-d-don't worry, Melissa," my father stammered, trying to put on a brave face. "They may be tryin' to get me, but I'm not gonna let 'em take me! They surely won't let draft me seeing as I only have one good eye...No, Marc Mitchell was blind in one eye an' they drafted him," my father quickly realized as he thought of one of his automotive co-workers.

"How are you going to get the government to leave you alone, Daddy?" I asked as I continued to cry a little, still fearing fearful that I was about to lose my father.

"That...I don't know..." my father sighed. "I've _got _to think of a way to get outta this...but how?"

It was at that moment a knock came at the front door. My father hesitantly got up. "Oh no..." he sadly remarked under his breath. "It's probably a man from the draft board..." My father hesitantly turned the knob as he visibly shook, terrified at what might greet him upon opening the door.

I felt fearful as well, as I thought my father was about to be forcibly taken away from me. "DADDY!" I cried out.

But when my father opened the door...it was none other than his old friend, Jim Peterman, holding a letter in his paw.

"GAAAHHH! You scared the _hell_ outta me, Jim!" my father said, shaking his fist at his friend.

"Sorry, sorry, I didn't mean to startle ya," Jim shrugged. "Say...Mike?"

"Yeah...?"

"You didn't happen to get a letter from the draft board, did ya?" Jim inquisitively asked.

"I did..." my father nodded. "Wait a minute...they didn't send ya a letter too...did they...?"

Jim sadly nodded his head as well. "Yeah, they did..."

"They're...they're tryin' to get you too, Uncle Jimmy?" I sniffled, as I'd been overhearing their conversation. I couldn't believe it. _Both _my father and Jim were potentially on the verge of being drafted into the US Army.

"Yeah, they are, kid..." Jim sighed. "Can ya believe it, Mike? They're tryin' to nab us both in one go..."

"This ain't right, Jim," my father growled. "They took my brother away and if they hadn't, he wouldn't be pushin' up daisies right now. Now they're tryin' to take me away from my little girl. I can't let 'em do that, Jim, I can't. I don't want her to go through what _I _had to go through when I was little...she deserves _SO _much better than that..."

"I don't wanna go either..." Jim sighed. "I ain't prepared to fight for my country...I gotta lot things I still wanna do here...I don't wanna die young, Mike..."

My father growled once more. "That _damn _President Johnson...He oughta pull outta 'Nam before it's too late and we're _all _getting our head shot off by the Cong!"

"Darn tootin'," Jim emphatically agreed with my father. "Just like President Johnson's dad shoulda pulled outta-" He didn't get to finish his snide statement as my father quickly interrupted him.

"_JIM!_" my father shouted at him, as he grabbed Jim by the scruff of his neck. "May I remind ya that there is a six-year old child over there by the couch?! Don't say somethin' _that _inappropriate in front of her, no matter how much I may agree with it!" He then quickly turned to me as he let go of Jim. "You...you didn't hear that, did ya, Melissa?"

I _had _heard every word they'd said, but I pretended not to have. I didn't really understand what they were talking about, so it didn't really matter. "No, I didn't, Daddy..." I said as I continued to listen to their conversation.

"Sorry, sorry, Mike. I shoulda thought about that," Jim hastily apologized. "Well, this is a difficult situation, Mike, ol' buddy. I don't wanna get drafted an' neither do you. We got until Friday to figure a way to get us off the hook. What are we gonna do?"

My father scratched his chin as he thought for a moment. "I don't know, Jim. I can't think of anythin' off the top of my head..."

"Well, y'know..." Jim quickly spoke up, "We could do like Buddy Young and Earle Bowman and move our families on up to Canada." Buddy Young and Earle Bowman were two former co-workers of my father...I vaguely remembered him telling me about them fleeing to Canada with their families to escape being drafted.

"Jim, that's my _last _resort," my father firmly shot back. "Moving to Canada might be a lil' too harsh on Melissa. I'm only willin' to take that option if there's no other way I can get out of this..."

"You're right," Jim nodded. He placed his finger to his chin as suddenly, an idea came to him. "Ah-HA! I got it, Mike! I know how we can get outta bein' drafted."

"What's yer plan, Jim?"

"I'll whisper it to ya, but...well...you may not like it..." Jim whispered his plan into my father's ear. I couldn't hear what he was saying...I only wondered just _what _they could have in mind that would get them out of being drafted.

No sooner had Jim finished than my father's eye nearly bugged out of his head. "Jim, are ya _crazy?!_" he shouted. "That's _never _gonna work! They won't fall for that! Besides, that's gonna be _humiliating!_"

"I'm sure it'll work," Jim laughed. "They won't let their kind serve in the Army, after all. If they see us actin' like that, they won't even make us go through the physical!"

"But I don't wanna be _humiliated _like that, Jim..." my father protested.

"Well, hopefully, word won't get out about what we're gonna do...You _do _wanna avoid gettin' yer furry butt put in the jungles, do ya?" the wolf raised his eyebrow.

"Well...desperate times call for desperate measures..." my father sighed, obviously feeling defeated. "Alright, ya got me, Jim...I guess I'll be seeing ya Friday, then?"

"Friday, yes," Jim nodded. "Trust me Mike, my plan is gonna work!"

"I sure hope you're right..." Dad sighed. "See ya, Jim..."

"See ya 'round, Mike!" he grinned as he turned to go. "Catch ya later, kiddo," Jim said as he turned back and waved good-bye to me.

"Bye, Uncle Jimmy," I managed to crack a smile as my father sat beside me on the couch.

"Daddy?" I curiously asked him.

"What is it, Mel?"

"I heard you and Uncle Jimmy come up with a plan so that the government wouldn't take you away," I informed him. "What are you gonna do, Daddy?" I wanted to know just _what _they were planning.

"I can't really tell ya that, Melissa..." my father explained to me.

"But why not? I want to know!" I begged.

"It's a _little _too embarrassin'," he admitted. "I guess you'll just see when Friday come along..."

Soon enough, Friday afternoon came. My father had brought me over to Jim's house to stay for a while while he and Jim went before the draft board. I couldn't stay home alone, so Jim's wife, Rebecca Peterman, or "Becky" as I remember she preferred to be known as, volunteered to look after me. I still remember Becky pretty well; she was a very nice, warm-hearted lady, a real stark contrast to Jim, who was often conceited and could be quite full of himself. I always loved spending time with her as she was quite fond of me. She'd told me that she'd been a close friend of my mother's in high school and that my mother had helped set her and Jim up. Whenever I wanted to know a little more about my mother that my father hadn't yet told me, Becky would usually fill me in.

"Alright, Mike, are we all rarin' to go?" Jim asked my father.

"I think so," my father nervously said, as much to my surprise and confusion, he grabbed Becky's purse off the table and slung it over his shoulder. I was absolutely _baffled _by what he was doing.

"Daddy, what are you doin' with Aunt Becky's purse?"

My father didn't know how to answer that question. "Well, if they see me with it, they won't take me away, Melissa..." he tried to explain, but it didn't sound good enough to me.

"Jim, dear, I _hope _you know what you're doing..." Becky rolled her eyes at her husband.

"Hehehe, don't worry there, hon! It's one of the greatest plans I've ever come up with!" he managed to laugh.

"Sure..." Becky just rolled her eyes again.

Much to my surprise, Jim grabbed my father's paw and clutched it tightly. "Well, this is it, Mike, ol' buddy. You ready...?"

"Alrighty then, Jim. Let's go..." As my father and Jim walked out of the front door paw-in-paw, Dad turned back to wave to me. "You be good for your Aunt Becky, alright?"

"I'm always good for Aunt Becky!" I beamed as I gazed at her. "Aren't I?"

"She's always been a little angel for me," Becky smiled at my father.

"Well, be good for her, Melissa. I'll be back in a little bit...I hope..." my father said as he and Jim left paw-in-paw. I was just so _perplexed _as to why they were holding paws and why my father was taking Becky's purse with him.

I hopped up into Becky's lap while she was watching television. "Aunt Becky?" I asked her.

The wolf gazed down at me and smiled as she adjusted her glasses. "What is it, Melissa?"

"Why are Daddy and Uncle Jimmy actin' like that?" I wondered.

"Well, sweetheart, they're trying to get out of being drafted into the Army," Becky explained to me.

"I know that, but just _what _are they doing?" I still wanted to know. "Uncle Jimmy told you what they were gonna do, right?"

"He sure did," Becky nodded.

"Well...what are they doing, Aunt Becky?"

Becky sighed as she tried to explain what my father and Jim's plan was in a simple way. "Well...Melissa...Your father and Jim are trying to pretend to be...er...in love."

"In love?" I was confused. At that time, I thought only men and women could fall in love. "But they're both men! Can men fall in love with each other, Aunt Becky?"

"They can, Melissa," Becky nodded. "_Most _men like women, but there are a few men who like other men."

"Oh, I didn't know that," I replied. This seemed very...strange to my young mind, learning that people of the same gender actually _could _fall in love with each other. Nowadays...I have nothing against those who are homosexual; I say, if two people are of the right age and really want to be together, then nobody should come between them!

"Well...now you know."

"Huh," I said, shaking my head a little. "Can women fall in love with each other too, Aunt Becky?"

"Yes, they can as well," Becky nodded again. "Some women _do _love other women."

"Okay...but how is that plan gonna work, Aunt Becky?"

"Well, Melissa...you see..." she tried to explain. "The Army doesn't allow men who like other men to join." She was right; at that time, the US Army did _not _allow homosexuals into their ranks. I don't think that was right to discriminate against people just based on their sexuality, but those were the attitudes of that time...

"Huh? Why wouldn't the Army let them join?" I curiously wondered.

"You see, there are a _lot _of people out there who believe that only men and women should fall in love. They believe that men shouldn't fall in love with men, and that women shouldn't fall in love with women. They think it's wrong," she finished.

"Do you think it's wrong, Aunt Becky...?"

"It doesn't really make a difference to me," Becky replied. "As long as those people aren't botherin' me, I don't have any problem with them."

"Aunt Becky, do you think Daddy and Uncle Jim's plan is gonna work?" I wanted to know. I so dearly _hoped _it would work as I didn't want to lose my Dad...

"Well..." the wolf sighed as she placed her paw on the side of her head. "Honestly...no, I don't think so. No offense, I _do _love my Jimmy, but he's an absolutely _horrible _actor. I don't see how he's gonna be able to fool them."

"I hope their plan works, Aunt Becky," I tried to encourage myself. "I don't want them to take my Daddy away."

"I hope it does too, but I'm not gettin' my hopes up," Becky sighed. "I really don't want them to take my Jim away from me..." She then gazed out the window as she began to speak up again. "There's a very _good _reason I don't want him to go away..."

"Why's that, Aunt Becky?" I was curious; she had my interest.

"There's...somethin'...I've been keepin' from your Uncle Jim," she admitted. "A little secret that I think I should tell him about pretty soon."

"Huh...?" I _dearly _wanted to know what Becky's secret was. It had to be important if she was keeping it from her husband..."What is it, Aunt Becky?"

"Can you keep a secret, Melissa?" Becky asked me.

"I promise, Aunt Becky," I smiled.

"Well...as I said, I haven't told your Uncle Jim yet, but..." Becky quickly cleared her throat. "I just recently went to see the doctor, and I found out that...I'm going to have a baby," she managed to crack a smile.

"Awww, Aunt Becky!" I smiled up at her. I'd always thought babies were adorable, so I was happy to hear that she was going to be a mother. "You're gonna be a Mommy?"

"I am, Melissa," Becky smiled. "I've always wanted to have children...so I'm happy I'm going to have one soon."

"Aww, that's so sweet! When are you going to lay the egg, Aunt Becky?" I asked her.

Becky looked confused for a moment. "Lay an egg? Is that where your father told you babies come from?" she chuckled.

"Yeah!" I smiled. "When are you going to lay the egg...?" At least my father was _somewhat _close to the truth when he told me that babies hatched from eggs...Ralph told me his mother told him that babies grew in a turnip patch and you plucked them out of the ground when they grew big enough. How confused he must have been when he was a kid! (He told me once he tried to find the turnip patch when he was little because he wanted a little brother...)

"Well, the doctor said I should lay an egg in March," Becky smiled as she decided to play along with me. At that moment, she lifted up her shirt a ways to expose her stomach. "The egg's right in here, Melissa. Go on, you can feel it if you like..."

I reached out and placed my paw on Becky's tummy, gently feeling around. "The egg's in here, Aunt Becky?"

"Yes, it is, Melissa," she continued to smile as she put her shirt back down. "It'll grow in there until it's big enough for me to lay it, then it'll hatch."

"Aunt Becky, you seem so happy," I noted. "Why wouldn't you tell Uncle Jim you're going to have a baby? Wouldn't he be happy, too?"

"Well, Melissa..." she sighed. "Your Uncle Jim told me he didn't want children..."

"Why wouldn't he want a baby, Aunt Becky?" I wondered.

"Because Jim told me that he doesn't really like kids all that much. He's...he's just not all that fond of them."

"He doesn't like kids...?" That was news to me. "You mean he doesn't like me...?"

"Well..._kinda_," Becky replied. "He's still not entirely happy about you throwing that ball at him when you were learning how to play..."

"But it was an accident!"

"I know," Becky nodded. "But as I said, Jim doesn't really want children."

"Maybe he will if you tell him about the baby!" I beamed at the wolf.

"I'd _like _to think so, but I just don't know..." Becky sighed. "I suppose I'll _have _to tell him at some point...If I don't, Jim'll find out anyways..."

"How will he find out?"

"Well, while the egg's growing in my belly, it's going to get bigger and bigger, and so will my belly," she explained as she gently patted her stomach. "Have you seen women with really big bellies before, Melissa?"

"Yes, I have, Aunt Becky," I smiled.

"Well, when you see a woman with a really big belly, that's when you know they're gonna be a Mommy. That's what I'll look like soon enough...and by the time I get that big, your Uncle Jim _will_ know what's going on..." the wolf finished.

"Oh, okay," I smiled. Up until that point, I'd always assumed that pregnant women were just really fat. "You should tell Uncle Jim, Aunt Becky. I think he might want to know he's gonna be a Daddy! Maybe he _will _like being a Dad..."

Aunt Becky managed to smile. "You know what? You're right, Melissa. Tonight...tonight, I think I'm gonna tell him that we're gonna be parents. Maybe he'll change his mind about all this and see that being a father might not be so bad, after all..." From what I remember, Becky indeed did tell Jim that night that she was pregnant with their child...

Soon, the front door to the Peterman house swung open as my father and Jim came in...gagging.

"Good _grief_, Jim!" my father gagged out. "I can't believe we _did _that!"

"I can't believe we _kissed_," Jim spluttered. "I gotta go wash my mouth out...Why did I _do _that?! Urgh! I'll _never _live that down!" he shouted as he ran straight for the bathroom. From what my father later told me, he and Jim actually _kissed _each other right on the lips in front of the draft board. He told me he'd come _very _close to barfing right into Jim's mouth...

"Hey, it was your idea, Jim!" my father shouted at him, shaking his fist. "Urgh...I need some mouth wash myself!"

Becky managed to stifle a chuckle. "I guess you got more than you bargained for with that plan, huh?"

"Ugh, you ain't kiddin' me, Becky!" my father groaned. "Never again._ **NEVER** **AGAIN!**_"

"Daddy...did your plan work?" I asked as I gazed up at him, smiling hopefully at him.

"Well...Melissa, Becky...I got some real great news for the two of ya," my father smiled. I knew I would like what he had to say.

"The draft board rejected you two, Mike?" Becky guessed.

"Yeah, they did!" my father beamed as he scooped me up into his arms. "You hear that, Melissa? Your Uncle Jim's plan worked! They're _not _gonna take me away!"

"Aww, Daddy!" I happily smiled as I wrapped my small arms around his neck and joyfully hugged him. I was _so _happy knowing that the government wasn't going to take my Dad away from me. "We can be together forever, Daddy!"

"We sure can," my father laughed as he tussled with the fur on my head. "Becky, thanks for lookin' after Melissa for me. I always appreciate the help."

"Oh, no problem, Mike," Becky smiled at him. "I'm glad to hear the two of you are off the hook..."

"I'm just glad this whole ordeal is _over_," Dad breathed a heavy sigh of relief. "See ya 'round, Becky."

"See you, Mike. You take care, Melissa!" Becky cheerfully waved as my father and I headed back home. I can just imagine how relieved she was knowing that her husband had been rejected by the draft board...

"Daddy...?" I whispered in my father's ear.

"Yes, Melissa...?" he whispered back.

"Aunt Becky has a surprise for Uncle Jim. She said she's gonna tell him about it tonight..." I told him.

"Surprise, huh? What kind of surprise?"

"I can't tell. Aunt Becky promised me to keep a secret," I smiled.

"I think I can _guess _what it might be...but I'm sure Jim'll tell me soon enough," my father shrugged.

"I'm sure he will...Oh Daddy, I'm so glad they're not gonna take you," I smiled as I hugged him again.

"I'm glad too," my father smiled. "I can't believe they were so easy to fool. Who woulda thought Jim's crazy plan would work?"

It seemed my father and Jim were off the hook and they were no longer in danger of being drafted into the Army...

...but alas, they were wrong...and they would soon find out.

**END CHAPTER FOUR**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** YES! YES! IT'S FINALLY DONE! WHOOOOOHOOOO...er, sorry, I just had to celebrate for a moment. You have NO idea how much this chapter frustrated me...as I said at the beginning, I had this chapter mostly written and nearly ready to go...but the first draft of this chapter looked dull and clunky because I was in a bad mood when I wrote it. I really DID rewrite this whole chapter again from scratch...and DAMN, does it feel good to finally have this story on the move again! Just a few notes this time...

Uncle Scott's death was tragic and needless, yes, but as Melissa herself says, it _was _necessary for him to die for Melissa's life to turn out the way it ultimately did. I must admit...there is certainly some potential to write an "alternate universe" story in which Uncle Scott never died and Mike didn't flee to Canada, and as thus, Melissa actually stayed in and grew up in Kentucky...It would be interesting to write an alternate timeline story like that showing how differently Ralph and Melissa's lives could have ended up had their paths never crossed with one another. It's not LIKELY I'll write something like that, but it's something to keep in mind.

And yes, it _was _indeed true that during the days of the Vietnam War, homosexuals were not allowed to join the US Army...I'm certain plenty of people pretended to be gay to get out of joining the Army. There's a good reason I didn't actually SHOW Mike and Jim really pretending to be gay with one another in front of the draft board...That would have the potential to piss off readers of my stories who might be gay, and I really don't wish to do that...I don't mean to actually offend anybody. My own views on gays match those of Melissa's: If two people are of the right age and really wish to spend their lives together, I don't see why they shouldn't. Besides...this is from Melissa's point of view so you couldn't really see them actually acting like that in front of the draft board.

Well, that's Chapter 4...onwards to Chapter 5! In the next chapter...we'll see Melissa's first childhood crush, a rather sad moment that I won't spoil for you, and a REALLY big moment...that you can probably already guess what it will be. Stay tuned for Chapter 5!


	5. Chapter 5: Leaving Everything Behind

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**: Well, this story is slowly but surely moving along. I hit a really HUGE snag with Chapter 4 of this story as I got stuck on it for several months, but finally (after having to actually physically scrap the mostly complete chapter once and start it anew), I finished it a couple of weeks back. And boy, did it ever feel good to finally finish something I was stuck with for what seemed like ages! Seeing as I'm on a bit of a writing adrenaline rush, here's chapter five...hopefully this chapter doesn't take as long to write as the last one did!

Anyways, last time around, little Melissa and her father received the terrible news of her uncle Scott's death in Vietnam. Melissa was _really _hit hard as she really loved her uncle, but she and Mike had to move on with their lives without him. To make matters worse, the US Army scouted out Mike and his friend Jim, but the two were able to avoid being drafted by posing as a homosexual couple...But it won't last. We also got to see Melissa's first school days and her having troubles fitting in with the boys. This time around, we'll see Melissa's first childhood crush...which, like most everyone's first crush, doesn't end particularly well for her and ends with her being hurt (physically, this time). Love can be a very painful emotion sometimes! But just when things seem like they've settled down, the Army winds up discovering Mike and Jim's ruse...and soon both are faced with the threat of being drafted. Jim doesn't end up being so lucky...and Mike is forced to make a very drastic decision to save little Melissa from being potentially orphaned...This is a _VERY _important chapter...as this is the final "Kentucky chapter"! Starting with the next chapter, the rest of Melissa's story will take place in Canada, as she moves a step closer to her current life in the Evergreen Forest...

Anyways, enough of my rambling, and on to...

**CHAPTER FIVE: Leaving Everything Behind**

So it seemed that Jim and my father had both successfully managed to evade being drafted into the army. They seemed to be in the clear for the time being. Of course, they didn't know things weren't going to go their way...but for now, life would go on as normal.

And sure enough, Becky kept her word and told Jim that she was expecting their first child, just as she'd told me that she would. I remember it was quite a shock for Jim at first, considering he didn't have any intentions of becoming a parent. But Becky had no plans of getting rid of her child, and in time, Jim would soon grow to like the idea of becoming a parent...but alas, fate was soon to intervene...

Anyways, getting back on track...it wasn't long before September rolled around again, which meant the arrival of the first day of school. I was moving on to the first grade. When I look back at my school days, I'm often amazed at how fast they seemed to fly by...

What I remember most about my first day of first grade is not what I learned on that day...rather, what I remember most is the fact that I met my first crush on the very first day of school! I remember that day quite well...albeit not particularly fondly...

I can remember eagerly rushing into my father's bedroom and shaking him from his slumber...

"Daddy, Daddy! Wake up, wake up!"

My father grunted as his one eye slowly opened. "Errgggh...what is it, Melissa..." he drowsily grumbled.

"Dad, it's the first day of school! I don't want to be late, after all!" I eagerly beamed.

"Well, someone's a little excited there, aren't they?" my father chuckled as he gradually climbed out of bed, his mood brightening a little.

"Why, of course I am, Dad!" I continued to cheerfully smile.

"Weren't you this excited _last _year on your first day of school?" Dad raised an eyebrow at me. Of course, he was right. I _had _been over-excited for my first ever day of school...only to be left tremendously disappointed when the boys had excluded me from their games. But this time around, I just _knew _things were going to turn out better.

"I was, but I _know _this year will be more fun, Daddy! I know everyone now, after all...I want to see my friends again!" I did have a few school friends during my days living in Kentucky...alas, it's been so long since I lived there that I have forgotten nearly all of their names!

"Well, I know ya do have some good friends," my father nodded. "Well, hold on a sec, Melissa. Lemme go get dressed and then we'll be on our way to school, a'right?"

"Alright, Daddy!" I happily jumped up.

Before I knew it, my father and I had gotten ready and he was about to drop me off at Buster Cobbs Elementary. A new school year was about to begin...

"Well, here we are, Melissa," my father remarked. "Ya _did _remember to bring your lunch with you, didn't ya?"

"I have it right here!" I grinned as I held up my lunch box. "I've gotta hurry, Dad...I'm almost late!"

"Well, alright," my father nodded as he opened up the door. "Have fun at school, honey...an' don't get in any trouble! Last thing I wanna hear is a call from yer teacher telling me ya did somethin' bad..."

"Don't worry, Dad, I'll be good!" I waved back at him as I happily skipped towards my school. I had good feelings about this particular school year. I had a big hunch it was going to be much better than kindergarten was...

...but I certainly couldn't have expected what I'd come across once I got to class.

I raced my way through the halls as I finally reached my classroom...just before the bell rang. "Whew, just in time!" I breathed a sigh of relief.

"It's great to see you've joined us, Miss...ah..." the teacher, a heron named Mr. Herrington, stumbled as he didn't know my name.

"My name's Melissa Mulligan, sir," I smiled at him.

"Ah yes, Melissa Mulligan," Mr. Herrington remarked as he checked my name off the list of students he had. "Please take your seat."

I did as I was asked and took my seat, which was right behind one of my friends from kindergarten, Shirley Loughnane, a Border Collie. She's probably the only school friend from my days in Kentucky I can really remember...

"Hey, Shirley," I quickly tapped her on the shoulder as I whispered in her ear.

"Oh, hi, Melissa," Shirley turned around and smiled as she waved hello to me. "Good to see you again!"

"How was your summer, Shirley?" I curiously asked her.

"Oh, my summer was a lot of fun!" she beamed back at me. "Daddy took me on vacation to Owensboro-"

But Shirley didn't even get to finish her sentence as at that moment, the front door of my classroom swung open. In dashed a young brown-furred raccoon boy who wore a grey striped shirt, sweating rather profusely as he had obviously been in quite a hurry to get to class.

"You're _late_, Mr...erm..." Mr. Herrington sternly glared at the young kit, as he fumbled for his name. He didn't really know _any _of our names...

"Sorry, sorry!" the kit profusely apologized to our teacher. "My name is Roy Lockheart, sir...see, my family's new here! We just moved here from Tennessee...and my Dad didn't know where the school was! We got lost coming here..."

Mr. Herrington frowned. "A _likely _story...Please take your seat, Mr. Lockheart." I don't remember particularly liking Mr. Herrington...he was a _particularly_ stern and strict teacher from what I can remember...I'm sure you all have teachers you don't have fond memories of...

As Roy went to take his seat, which happened to be right across from me, I couldn't help find myself feeling, well...oddly attracted to him.

"_Hey...he's kinda cute..._" I couldn't help but smile to myself as I gazed at him.

Throughout my first class, I found myself paying more attention to him than Mr. Herrington's lecture! The teacher was quick to take notice of my lack of attention.

"Miss Mulligan, I believe the chalkboard is up _here_," Mr. Herrington firmly stated as he glared at me.

"Oh!" I blushed as I felt embarrassed. "Sorry...Sorry, Mr. Herrington! I'll try to pay more attention, I promise!"

Alas, I found myself having such a hard time focusing throughout the whole day. I just couldn't pay attention to what the teacher was telling us, as my gaze was transfixed on Roy. I just couldn't help it...I just wanted to reach right over and pinch him on the cheeks because I thought he was so cute!

"Hey, Shirley?" I whispered as I tapped my friend on the shoulder as she turned around to face me.

"What d'you want, Melissa?" she curiously asked me.

"You see Roy over there?" I asked her in a rather dreamy, giddy-sounding voice.

"Yeah. What about him?" Shirley raised her eyebrow at me.

"I think he's cute," I couldn't help but giggle under my breath.

"Yech!" Shirley gagged. "You think a boy's _cute_? Boys are gross, Melissa! They have all those icky cooties on 'em! You'll catch 'em if you get too close to one of 'em!"

"I don't think boys have cooties," I continued to giggle. "I don't think he's gross at all, Shirley." Shirley was very different from me from what I remember...unlike me, she preferred jumping rope and playing hopscotch over playing baseball or getting dirty. I guess I really _wasn't _your typical little girl back in those days...

Alas, Mr. Herrington overheard our conversation. "Miss Mulligan! Do you not know the rules? No talking while I am talking, do you understand?"

"I understand, sir..." I meekly said, as I was afraid I was about to be punished.

"That's twice I've had to talk to you today, young lady! Next time, I am going to have to discipline you _and _call your father. You don't want that, _do _you?" That was certainly very ominous, as back in those days, teachers would often whip their students for continuous disobedience. I _did _get spanked at school a couple of times in my youth...my behind winces just _thinking _about it! Thank goodness they don't do _that _anymore!

"No, sir," I fearfully nodded. "I won't cause any more trouble, sir!"

The rest of the day was uneventful...until it was time for recess, that is.

"Alright, class," Mr. Herrington shouted to us as he led us to the back door of our school, exposing the playground before our eyes. "It's time for recess!"

"Yay!" everyone shouted out as we dashed onto the playground. Recess used to be _such _a blast when I was a kid. As I've said before, it's one of the things I miss the most about being a kid...

Shirley was busy jumping rope while I was having fun dangling from the monkey bars. I used to really love climbing things when I was little...

But I couldn't help but notice something while I was hanging in mid-air. Poor Roy was all alone out on our ball field, playing a game of kick-the-can all by himself. It seemed no one wanted to play with the new student.

"Shirley, d'ya see that?" I asked my friend as I pointed out at the ball field.

"See what?" she wondered as she placed her jump rope down.

"Poor Roy's out there all alone," I informed her as she saw him standing out there. "No one wants to play with him.."

"So?" Shirley shrugged.

"Well...I don't think that's right! He's new here; he needs someone to play with!" I chirped.

"Why do you always want to play with the boys?" Shirley scratched her head. "You don't want to catch their cooties, do ya?"

"I don't care if he has cooties," I smiled. "I just think he needs a friend to play with!" I was always eager to make a new friend, and besides, I already thought he was very cute...I thought this would be a good opportunity to get to know Roy a little better.

"I like you, Melissa, but you're a little weird," Shirley gave me a rather bewildered look as I let go of the monkey bars.

"So?" I chuckled. "I'm gonna go talk to Roy and see if he wants to play, alright?"

"Sure, go ahead," Shirley shrugged as she picked up her jump rope once again. "If ya want cooties..."

I ignored Shirley's remark and headed straight for the ball field where Roy was. He looked a little sad; as it was clear the other kids had left him out as they didn't know him.

I approached Roy very slowly, as I was a little bit nervous to talk to him. Hey, I'm sure all of you felt pretty nervous trying to talk to your crush for the first time! Anyways, I slowly walked up behind Roy and tapped him gently on the shoulder.

"Hi," I said sweetly, as he turned around to meet me face to face.

"Oh, uh," Roy flushed a little as he stumbled around for words. "Hello there..."

"Why are you playing all by yourself?" I innocently asked him.

"I don't know...I'm new here and I guess all the other kids don't like me," he sighed. "I just want to make a friend..."

"Aww, don't worry," I brightly smiled at him. "I'll be your friend!"

"But you're a girl," Roy glanced awkwardly at me. "All the kids at my old school said girls and boys aren't friends."

"But I _want _to be your friend," I continued to smile at him.

"Really?" Roy exclaimed. "Well, okay...My name's Roy Lockheart," he introduced himself.

"I heard you say that to the teacher; I remember!" I beamed at him. "I..." I couldn't help but find myself blushing as I tried to properly introduce myself to him; I just felt all warm and fuzzy inside when I was trying to tell him my name, and I didn't understand why I felt the way I did..."I'm Melissa Mulligan..."

"Nice to meet you, Melissa!" Roy managed to crack a smile at me. "Do you want to play?"

"Sure I do!" I enthusiastically exclaimed. "But maybe we should try something more fun than kick-the-can." I quickly thought of a game the two of us could play that would be more fun than kicking an old can around. Then an idea hit me. "Hey, Roy, do you like kickball?"

"Kickball?" Roy's little ears lit up. "Oh, I love kickball! I was very good at it at my old school!" he cheerfully exclaimed.

"Great! So, d'ya wanna play, Roy?" I hopefully asked. It looked like things were going quite well between the two of us!

"I don't see why not..." Roy nodded his head in confirmation.

"Okay, Roy! I'll go get us a kickball so we can play!" With that, I happily dashed off towards a nearby shed to retrieve a kickball. I didn't know that something could possibly go horribly wrong...

Soon, Roy and I were standing in the middle of the ball field. He stood near home plate while I stood on the pitcher's mound.

"Ready, Roy? Good luck-my Daddy says I've got quite a good arm!" I giggled. I was anticipating him missing the ball entirely...

"Send it here!" he cheered at me, a very mischievous grin planted on his face as it seemed he had an idea of some sort. "I have a good foot on me!"

"Okay, Roy, here it goes!" I beamed as I rolled the ball towards him. What happened next was something I was **_NOT _**anticipating...

Roy _did _manage to kick the ball. Quite hard, as a matter of fact. In fact, he kicked the ball so hard it flew straight up in the air...

...and much to my shock, hit me squarely in the snout. _Hard_.

Almost immediately, I fell to the ground, crumpled up in a heap as I instantly began crying. My snout wasn't broken, but it had hurt a _lot _getting hit full-on in the face by the ball. I can still remember feeling blood coming out of my nose as I cried.

"Waaaaaaaaugggghhhhh! By dose! By dose!" I cried out in a very stuffy voice. "Aaaaugggghhhh!"

I couldn't believe what Roy did next. Instead of coming over to check and see if I was alright, he promptly turned tail and fled. I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw that! I thought he did that on purpose, and looking back at it now...I still think he did!

"Woy!" I called out in my stuffy voice. "Where are you goin'...?"

I continued to cry and cry until Mr. Herrington showed up. I ended up going to the school nurse, who proceeded to wrap a few bandages on my snout. She then proceeded to call my father at work so he could pick me up and take me home since the nurse felt I needed to go home and get some rest. Soon enough, my father dropped by to pick me up. Everything was quiet until we got home, and there, we decided to discuss things further.

"Are you going to be alright, Melissa?" my father worriedly asked me as the two of us were sitting on our old front porch.

"I hope so, Daddy..." I quietly said, staring down at my feet.

"They said a boy hit you in the face with a kickball," Dad mused, as he was curious to know just _what _had happened. "But they didn't say why. Melissa, mind tellin' me what happened to you?"

I sighed as I knew I'd have to explain the situation to my father. "Well, Daddy..." I began, "...there was a new kid in school today."

"A new kid?" my father raised an eyebrow. "What was his name?"

"His name is Roy Lockheart. He said he came from Tennessee...that's the state below us, right?" I vaguely remembered learning the 50 U. S. states in kindergarten.

"Yes, Tennessee is to the south of Kentucky," my father nodded. "But what does all this have to do with ya gettin' yer nose hurt..." My father quickly put two and two together. "Ah! Roy must be the one who hit ya with the kickball, am I right?"

"Yes, Daddy," I sadly nodded. I felt upset that I'd reached out to Roy and he promptly turned around, hit me in the face with a kickball, and ran off without even _bothering _to see if I was okay. I think he got in trouble for doing that, although I don't remember how he was punished.

"Well, like I said, Melissa, I wanna know what happened. Why did he kick ya in the face?" my father quizzically gazed at me.

"Daddy...I..." I was trying to think of how to explain things to my father, but it was hard for my six-year old mind to put it into words properly. "I couldn't stop gazin' at Roy during class. I don't know...I thought he was really cute an'...an'..."

"An' what?" my father raised his eyebrow again.

"An' I felt all warm and fuzzy inside!" I exclaimed. "I don't know why I felt that way, Daddy..."

"Hmm...Sounds like someone has a lil' crush, huh?" my father chuckled at me.

That word had no real meaning to my young mind. "What's a...crush, Daddy?" I curiously wondered.

"Well, how shall I explain this..." my father stumbled, looking for the right words to use. "A crush is when...It's when you really, _really _like someone and y'don't know why ya like them..."

"You mean like love, Daddy?"

"Well, sorta," Dad remarked. "It's just so...sudden. You don't know why you feel that way 'bout that person at all, ya just do."

"Did you feel that way about Mommy, Dad?" I wondered.

"When I first met her, yes," my father explained. "But she wasn't the first person I felt that way for. Believe it or not, there were other girls I had crushes on before I met yer Mom."

"Really...?" I was a little surprised to hear that.

"Yeah...but unlike yer Mom, they didn't like me back..." Dad sighed.

I sadly sighed as I started to explain a little more of what had happened. "We were at recess an' he was all alone 'cause no one wanted to play with him. I asked him if he wanted to play, an' he said yes. I went to go get a kickball, an' when I tossed it to him...he...He kicked it right at me," I sighed as I rubbed my very sore snout. "Why did he do that, Daddy? I was bein' nice an' he did somethin' _really _mean to me!"

"Melissa..." my father softly smiled as he wrapped his arm around me. "Boys do things like that sometimes. Sometimes we like to get into mischief when we're younger. It's...I guess that's how we just are. We all grow out of it someday..." He then proceeded to gently pat me on the head. "D'ya still like Roy? After what happened 'tween you two?"

"I don't know, Daddy..." I sighed again.

"Well, if I were you, young lady, I wouldn't really worry about Roy," he firmly explained. "You're only six years old...'bout to be seven. You are far too young to really understand love or worry about boys. I know I told ya this before, but you're still a kid! You have plenty of time to be a kid and just enjoy your childhood. Believe me, you'll want to enjoy these years while ya can, because they don't last forever. 'Fore ya know it, you'll be a grown-up like me an' you'll be lookin' back wishin' you could be a kid again..." Dad wistfully sighed. His childhood wasn't the happiest one, but I'm sure that he wouldn't have minded re-living it and seeing if things would have gone differently. "You understand me, right?"

"I think so, Dad," I nodded. I'm not sure I fully understood him then, but I certainly do now; now that I'm a middle-aged woman, I often wonder what would happen if I _did _get a chance to relive my childhood again. Would things turn out differently? "But d'ya think guys will like me someday? You said they would when they got older..."

"Melissa, honey, you're a very bright, kind-hearted little girl," my father encouragingly smiled. "You're gonna grow up into quite a fine young woman someday really soon. If ya stay the way y'are, I'm sure there'll be plenty of guys who'll like ya," he continued to smile, although it did seem rather forced. "I just hope ya be really careful with which guys you like..." he said under his breath as his facial expression changed to a more worried one. My father told me when I was an adult that it wasn't so much the idea of me actually dating that scared him; it was more the idea of who I might actually date..."But anyways, ya don't have to worry 'bout that right now. You've still got a few more years 'fore you've got to worry about that, a'right?"

"A'right, Daddy," I managed to smile.

"Now, honey, d'ya want some ice cream? I got some in the freezer..."

"Ooh, I love ice cream, Daddy!" I beamed as we went in our house for some ice cream.

Roy was my first crush that would end in disappointment for me, but he would _not _be the last...I really wish I _had _listened to my father's warnings. When I was a teenager, I had quite a thing for the "bad boys", if you will, and often disappointed my Dad by going out with them, not knowing that they would soon disappoint me and break my heart...

But anyways, that's a story I'll save for another time!

* * *

Months passed and my first grade year flew by. 1967 came and went by in a flash, and soon it was 1968. A new year looked like it would bring many things to me and my father. But what we _couldn't _anticipate was the serious event that made us truly realize the two of us were in real danger, nor did we anticipate the serious change in our lives that would happen later on that year...

I can still remember the day pretty well. It was mid-February '68. The previous afternoon and night had seen _quite _a lot of snow and ice fall on Louisville, and our humble suburban home was snowed in as a result. We even had the power go out during the night, although it was back on by the morning...

That morning, my father and I were eating breakfast at the kitchen table as we had our old radio blaring. We were both listening to the morning news as they were announcing the schools and businesses that were closed for the day, hoping that that both of us would get to spend a day at home together.

"Daddy, do you think school will be cancelled today?" I hopefully asked. I always loved when school was cancelled due to snow because it meant a day at home to play in the wintry weather!

"Well, we'll see, Melissa," my father remarked as he chomped on a slice of bacon. "I'm hopin' the factory's closed today myself. Nothin' better than gettin' a free day off work!" he chuckled.

We both listened intently to the radio as at last, my father heard what he was looking for.

"And for those of you who work at the Pontiac automotive plant, you'll be pleased to hear that the plant has been closed for the day!" the radio announcer enthusiastically proclaimed as my father cheerfully jumped up from the kitchen table.

"YES! _That's _what I was hopin' to hear! Yes! Haha, now _that's _what I'm talkin' 'bout!" he couldn't help but beam in excitement. My father never particularly liked his job at the automotive factory, so he was always glad to get a day off from the job...

"But what about me, Daddy?" I wondered. Would I still have to go to school today?

"Well, you'll just have to wait 'til they get to the school closings," my father encouragingly smiled at me.

Soon enough, I heard what I had been waiting for.

"And now, kids, it's what you've all been waiting for: we're going to announce the school closings for the day! Those of you youngsters who go to Buster Cobbs Elementary will no doubt be excited to hear that your school is closed for today!"

"Yay!" I happily jumped up for joy. "Yay, Daddy! No school today! We can stay at home and play together!"

"We sure can, honey," my father smiled as I embraced him.

"Today is gonna be so much fun, Daddy! Isn't it?" I continued to beam.

"Sure is, Melissa," my father nodded.

"Ooh, I'd better go upstairs and get my sled!" I always _loved _to go sledding when I was a little girl...

"Sounds like a good idea," my father remarked as he grabbed his coat and scarf. "I'll meet ya outside, a'right?"

"A'right, Daddy!" I called out as I raced up the stairs. I made sure to put on my little coat, my boots, my hat, my mittens, and my scarf, before grabbing my sled and racing downstairs to join my father.

That day turned out to be quite a blast. As I said, I used to _love _snow when I was little. Now that I'm an adult, I find it can be quite a hassle to deal with at times, but back then, I didn't really mind at all. I just _really _loved snow. I still remember everything my father and I did that day. I rode on my old sled while my father pushed me down several large mounds of snow. We built a snowman together (although we didn't have a carrot to use for the nose). But most fun of all, we had a snowball fight...

I was busy rolling up a snowball in my paws while my father gazed at the snowman we'd just finished making. "He looks like quite a jolly fella, don't ya think, Melissa?" my father asked.

"He sure does, Daddy!" I giggled as I finished rolling up my snowball. With a mischievous little grin planted on my face, I proceeded to toss the snowball at my father while he had his back turned to me, hitting him right in the back.

"HEY!" my father shouted out as he turned around to face me. "You threw that at me, didn't ya...?"

I shook my head as I sweetly smiled at my father, feigning innocence. "It wasn't me, Daddy..."

"You can't fool me," my father raised his eyebrow at me. "I can tell that was you." With that, my father reached down to gather up some snow from the ground, quickly rolled it up into a snowball, and tossed it right at my face.

"OOF!" I shouted out. "Hey, no fair, Daddy!"

"Well, it wasn't fair of you to throw that snowball at me while I had my back turned, was it, young lady?" my father chuckled.

"I'm gonna get you back, Daddy!" I giggled as the two of us grabbed some more snow and soon enough, we were chucking snowballs at each other left and right. The memories I have of me and my father playing together like this are probably the happiest memories I have of him. Deep inside my heart, it still pains me even to this day knowing that all I have left of my Dad are those memories...well, that and his ashes...Sometimes when I really think about happy memories like that, it makes me tear up a little...I miss my Dad greatly, but I know I have to go on with life and be there for Ralph and Michael...

Alas, this wasn't destined to be a happy memory, as after a while had passed, who should come strolling up to us, but none other than Jim Peterman?

"Hey there, Mike, Melissa," Jim waved to us. "Seems ya two are havin' a lot of fun..." Jim looked quite sad about something; what, we didn't know.

"Ooh, we are, Uncle Jimmy!" I cheerfully smiled at him. "Daddy and I are havin' a snowball fight!"

"I can see that," Jim sighed.

"Bet you're glad to get a day outta work too, right, Jim?" my father chuckled as he nudged Jim in the shoulder.

"Yeah, I guess," Jim meekly nodded, still looking pretty glum. "I guess it's nice to just spend a day at home ev'ry now an' then..."

"How are things goin' with Becky, anyways?" Dad wondered. "She's gonna have that baby in...what another month or so, right?"

"Right," Jim nodded.

"Becky hasn't eaten ya outta house an' home yet, has she? I told ya that I had a helluva time dealin' with Allie when she was gonna have Melissa..." my father chuckled again.

"Oh, no, she's doin' fine. I've just had to fetch her lots and lots of watermelons 'cause that's what she wants all the time," Jim managed to let out a small chuckle, before a glum look came across his face.

"What's the matter, Uncle Jimmy?" I curiously asked. I didn't understand why he seemed so sad. "You look sad!"

"Kid..." Jim sighed again, "this is somethin' I gotta discuss with yer father...ya know what I mean..."

"Oh, I see!" I smiled as I started building some walls around the snowman that we made. But even as my father and Jim conversed, I still listened in...even though I didn't fully understand what they were saying...

"Mike...I got some really bad news..." Jim admitted.

"What? What kinda bad news?" Dad gazed at his friend, looking confused.

"You ain't gonna believe this, Mike...but..." he stumbled, trying to think of how to explain the situation.

"But what? Well, out with it, Jim!" my father demanded.

"Mike...remember how we fooled the draft board by makin' 'em think we were gay?"

"Yeah, I remember," he nodded. "Really gave 'em the slip, didn't we?"

"I thought so...but I guess not. Ya see, Mike...the Army found out we were tryin' to fool 'em. Or at least, they caught onto _me_..." the wolf sadly admitted as his ears drooped.

"_**What?!**_" my father gasped, not sure what else to say.

"They sent me a letter last week askin' me to appear before 'em again for my physical examination. Couldn't lie my way out of it this time...An' guess what, Mike..."

"What? They drafted you?!" my father shouted in an alarmed voice.

"They did..." Jim said as a tear came to his eye. "I...I gotta go to Fort Campbell this Friday to report to boot camp an' then...I guess it's off ta 'Nam..."

"Jim, you _can't _go to Fort Campbell!" my father exclaimed. "You and I both know you ain't Army material. You gotta find a way to get outta this!"

"I can't, Mike..." Jim said as he started to cry a little. "I done all the fightin' I can. I can't fight no more. I ain't a fighter, ya know that. I ain't bold enough to run away."

"But Jim, your _kid..._" Mike tried to plead with him. "What about yer baby? And Becky? What about her?"

"Well, at least I know Beckers'll do a good job of lookin' after my pup while I'm gone..." the wolf sighed, trying to find _some _bright side in this bleak situation. "But it just tears me up knowin'...I ain't gonna be there to see...the lil' guy bein' born..." Jim's eyes watered up once more.

"Jim, you _can _be there to see yer kid come into the world!" Mike said in a determined voice.

"I know...but...I'm scared, Mike. What'll happen if I flee...an'...an' they catch me? I'll be considered a traitor to my own country an'...an' they'll lock me up an' throw away the keys! Then...Then I'll never get to see my Beckers or our kid again..._ever_..." he said in a very solemn voice. "Like I said, I ain't a fighter. Becky's a smart lil' girl...I know she'll figure out how t'take care of herself an' our kid...least 'til I get back..." Jim had pretty much given up on trying to get out of Army service; he'd reluctantly decided to accept his fate.

"Oh God!" my father suddenly realized. "Oh God, the Army might come after me again too...I can't let 'em get me! What about Melissa? If I let 'em take me away I'd be breakin' the promise I made to Allie!"

"Mike..." Jim sighed as he turned to leave, "you were _always _a fighter...I know you'll be able to figure somethin' out..."

"I can't believe yer gonna let the Army take ya away, Jim..." my father sighed. "Well, I guess that's yer choice...I guess we'll see you off Friday...?"

"I s'pose so. I'll be seein' ya, Mike..." Jim hung his head down as he headed back to his house.

I didn't fully understand what was going on...but from what I _did _understand, I knew I didn't like what I had heard. Needless to say, I had a _lot _of questions for my Dad when he walked back up to me. "Daddy, Daddy! Uncle Jimmy is leavin'...? Why? Is it...the...the govern...ment...?" I fearfully said. At this age, I _still _envisioned the government as being some hideous, snarling beast of some sort...

"Yes, Melissa," my Dad solemnly said. "The government got your Uncle Jim."

"But...but you two tricked the govern...ment!" I cried out. "I thought we were safe! How did they get Uncle Jim?!" I just didn't understand at _all_.

"I hate to say it...but...the government is smarter than we thought," my father sighed. "Took 'em a while to catch onto yer Uncle Jim...but they did..."

"But what about Aunt Becky? And their egg?" I worried. Becky Peterman really _was _a very sweet, kind-hearted woman...it made me sad to think of how upset she surely must have been knowing her husband was about to be taken away...

"They'll be fine, I guess..." Dad shrugged. "I'd just hate t'see how Becky's handlin' things right now. She must be _really _torn up 'bout it..."

"Daddy..." I worried. "Are they gonna get you, too?" I felt quite terrified imagining the government forcibly dragging my father away from me, leaving me with no one to protect and look out for me...I started to cry just _thinking _about it!

"No, they're not," my father firmly said. "They ain't gonna get me. Even if they _try _to come after me, I ain't goin' down without a fight."

"Are you...sure, Daddy?" I cried, not feeling entirely sure of that. I was _convinced _they were going to get my Dad...

"I'm sure, honey," he warmly smiled as he scooped me up and hugged me. "I got an idea. If the government tries to take me away from you, I already got a plan in mind. They ain't gettin' me...I'll always be here for ya, Melissa, I _promi_se! I'm not gonna let anyone do somethin' that would hurt you so..."

"Oh, Daddy..." I cried. "I hope they don't try to take you..."

"I guess we'll just have to wait and see, Melissa..." my father replied. Little did I know that day we would have to flee our home would be coming _very _soon...

A few days passed, and soon, it was Friday afternoon-the day Jim Peterman had to leave for Fort Campbell as he was being drafted. Jim and Becky were at the bus stop, as my father and I were gathered there too to say goodbye to him. The atmosphere at the bus stop was _quite _somber...

"Well, this is it, Jim..." my father sighed. "Yer 'bout to become an Army man. I...I hope nothin'll go wrong in 'Nam..." he sighed.

"I guess I just gotta hope for the best," Jim shrugged, a very disheartened look on his face. "Here's hopin' the 'Cong don't get my hide..."

"Oh Jim," Becky said as she nuzzled his cheek, tears streaming down her saddened face. "Why do you have to go? There's gotta be some way outta this...isn't there? It's not fair they're doin' this to us..."

"Aw, I know it's not, Beckers..." Jim teared up a little as well as he wrapped his arm around her. "It ain't fair at all...But I _gotta _do this, hon. If I run away, they might throw me in jail..."

"I'd be willing to take that risk..." Becky replied through her tears. "I don't want us to be torn apart like this..."

"I know, hon, I know...But I guess this is for the best..." he solemnly sighed.

"I mean, it's not fair! We're so close to bein' a family, Jim, dear...I mean, our pup is gonna be here so soon. Just another month or so and it'll be here...I _want _us to be a family! I'm so proud that you actually decided you _wanted _to be a father...and...and...and now you might not even get that chance. I don't even know if you're ever gonna come back from Vietnam! My child...might not even get to know its' father...It'll be just like lil' Melissa here; it'll only ever know you through photos and what I can tell it from memory. I _want _you to be on our pup's life, Jim..." the wolf continued to tearfully lament.

"I do too...I can't say for sure I'll come back, but if I do..." he trailed off. "I never thought I'd ever wanna be a Dad, but I guess the little fella's grown on me...just like he's growin' inside ya...If I come back, I'll be there for our lil' guy, I promise! I'll help the lil' fella all the way through his life!"

"Jim, I dunno if it's a boy or a girl," Becky sighed as she tried to gather her composure. She really _didn't _know; back then, technology was not as advanced and pregnant women couldn't have ultrasounds performed to determine the gender of their unborn children. Back then, your child's gender would be a mystery until the day it was born..."But if it _is_ a boy, I have an idea for a name you might like..."

"What were you thinkin' 'bout namin' the lil' guy?" my father chimed in.

"Well, I only told Melissa this when I was looking after her a little while ago," Becky explained. "You remember, don't you, Melissa?" she glanced down at me.

"I remember, Aunt Becky!" I enthusiastically remarked.

"Jim, if our kid's a boy...I was thinkin'...I was gonna name our pup Jim Jr.," she managed to crack a smile, even though tears continued to stream down her face.

"Really? You're gonna name it after me?"

"If it's a boy...yes," Becky nodded.

"Well, Beckers, that's really thoughtful of ya!" Jim managed to exclaim. "Jim Jr...I like that, ya know. It's...It's too bad I ain't gonna be there to see our lil' pup be born..."

"I just _wish _you could be there to see it..." Becky sighed.

"Maybe you could see Uncle Jimmy a picture of the baby after it hatches, Aunt Becky!" I beamed; I thought that sounded like a good idea.

"Hey, great idea, Melissa!" my father smiled at me. "I'm sure Jim would like that, don't ya think?"

"I think so," Becky managed to smile. "Jim, I know we'll be writin' each other...you wouldn't mind if I sent ya a picture of our pup once it's born, would ya...?" she hopefully asked.

"I'd love that," Jim smiled at her. "It'll let me know what's waitin' here at home for me when I get back!"

Soon enough, the bus arrived at our bus stop and opened the doors. Jim was about to board the bus to the train station to catch the Golden Arrow train to Fort Campbell...

"Well, this is it..." Jim sighs. "I guess I'll be seein' y'all later..."

"Will we ever see you again, Uncle Jimmy...?" I sadly asked him. I didn't know if I would ever see him again after today; after all, I never saw Uncle Scott again after he'd been deployed to Vietnam. "You will come back, right?"

"Of course I will, kid. You'll see me again, don't ya worry!" Jim said as he patted me on my head, although judging by the sound of his voice, he didn't sound entirely certain of that...

My father gave his old pal a friendly hug before he left. "Jim, I'm gonna miss ya, pal..." Dad said in a rather melancholy voice. "Things ain't gonna be the same 'round here without ya."

"I know, ol' buddy, I know..." Jim sighed, his eyes starting to water up. "I'll be sure to write y'all an' see how things are goin'..."

"Jim, I got one thing to say before ya go," my father remarked as he let go of the wolf.

"An' what's that?"

"Jim...watch yer head while you're in 'Nam. I already had to see my brother with his head blown off..." my father choked up just thinking about it, "'an I don't wanna see ya with yours blowed off too."

"I'll keep my peepers peeled," Jim nodded. "I hope when they come a-callin' for you, you'll be able to get out of this..."

"I have a plan, Jim...I'll find a way..."

With that, Jim turned his attention towards his wife as he embraced her...gently, of course, seeing that she _was _rather heavily pregnant. The two wolves kissed as tears absolutely streamed down their faces.

"I guess this is goodbye, Beckers..." Jim's voice quivered as they separated. "I'm gonna miss ya, baby..."

"Oh, Jim..." Becky sobbed. "I'm gonna miss ya too, my big oaf..."

"You...you ain't gonna be seein' any other men while I'm gone, are ya...?" Jim worried aloud. "I mean...Marc Mitchell's wife was seein' the mailman while he was gone...an' look what happened there..."

"_No_, Jim. I...I wouldn't do that to ya..." Becky emphatically replied. "I'm not _that _kind of gal...there's room for only _one _man in my life, an' that's _you_." Jim and Becky may have been different from each other as night and day, and they may have argued quite often, but deep down, they both really _did _love each other.

"Well, I'm glad t'hear that...I mean, last thing I'd wanna see is you in the arms of...say...ol' Mike over here! I'd probably have t'shoot the both of ya if that happened!" he managed to chuckle.

"Sheesh, c'mon, Jim, ya really think I'm gonna steal your wife while yer gone?" my father shook his head.

"Nah, I know ya wouldn't, ol' buddy, I was only foolin' 'round!" he laughed through his tears. "Take good care of our pup, a'rght, Beckers?"

"Don't worry, dear...I'll do the best I can for our child."

Jim then turned his attention to his wife's swollen abdomen as he began to gently speak to it. "Bye there, lil' fella. You be good for your Mama, a'right? Don't cause her no trouble while I'm gone!"

"Oh, Jim..." Becky sadly sighed. "I'm sure our child will be as good as gold..."

"Can the egg hear you, Uncle Jimmy?" I wondered.

"Shucks if I know," Jim shrugged. At that moment we were interrupted by the feline bus driver.

"Hey, are ya gonna get on or what? I ain't gettin' paid t'sit here, y'know!" he grumpily shouted at Jim.

Jim quickly embraced Becky again as the two wolves shared a goodbye kiss. "I love ya, Beckers...Please, take care of y'self!" he said as he boarded the bus.

"I love ya too, Jim..." she sighed as the bus pulled away. Jim waved at us out the window until the bus was out of sight.

"Bye, Uncle Jimmy..." I sadly waved goodbye to my father's dearest friend. After that day...I never saw Jim Peterman again...

As soon as the bus disappeared from sight, Becky immediately burst out sobbing once again. "Oh, _JIM!_" she cried right onto my father's shoulder. Not knowing of any way better to help her, my father gave her a friendly embrace.

"There, there, Becky..." Dad tried to cheer her up as best he could. "Everything'll be alright..."

I just felt so _bad _for poor Becky. She was too nice a woman to have go through something so stressful like that...it was clear having Jim taken away from her absolutely _broke _her poor heart.

"Mike..." Becky managed to croak out through her tears. "If they try to come an' get you...I hope you'll have the courage to flee...the kind of courage my Jim didn't have..." she continued to sob. "Lil' Melissa doesn't need to go through this..."

"I got everything planned out, Becky...she won't have to," my father cracked a smile.

"What are we gonna do if the govern...ment tries to get you, Daddy?" I wondered.

"You'll see, honey, you'll see..."

Sure enough, a little over a month after Jim left for Vietnam, Becky gave birth to a healthy pup. I remember it _did _turn out to be a boy...and just like she said she would, she ended up naming him James Peterman, Jr., in honor of his father. It was a very nice gesture of her to do that...

But one thing that has bothered me over the years is what ever became of Jim and Becky. As I said, I never saw Jim again after he left on that bus...the last thing I knew, Jim and Becky were writing one another and she was still eagerly awaiting his return. I don't know if anything happened to Jim in Vietnam, or if he ever even came back. I never got to find out whether or not he ever got a chance to see his own son. I know Becky was _hoping _they could be a family someday...I never got to find out if they actually _got _that chance.

And that's one thing I really _wish _I knew...

* * *

Months passed and soon, my first grade year was over. Once again, I passed with flying colors...I actually did even _better _than I did in kindergarten, I remember. I was enjoying my summer, but I was already looking ahead as I was awaiting my second grade year...

However, I had this nagging feeling that my father was soon going to be taken away from me and be forced to serve in the war. Seeing both Uncle Scott and Jim getting drafted just had me feeling very fearful that I would lose my Dad. However, my father had said he had a plan in case the Army came after him once again. But when I found out _what _that plan was, it came as quite a shock...

I still recall that August evening quite clearly...My father surprised me by making me go to bed _quite _early...he already had me in my bed by seven o'clock, a couple hours before my usual bedtime. As my father was tucking me into bed, I couldn't help but protest.

"Daddy!" I pleaded with him. "It's only seven o'clock! I'm not even tired yet! Can't I stay up a little later? Can't I?"

"Sorry, Melissa, but ya need yer sleep," my father sighed. "There's a reason I'm puttin' ya to bed early tonight..."

"What is it, Daddy...?" I wondered.

"Melissa, I know ya know it's probably been comin' for a while now..." my father sighed again, trying hard to properly explain the situation to me. "...But...it's happened..."

"What happened, Dad?" I wondered aloud, but suddenly, it dawned on me. "The government's tryin' to get you again?"

"...Yes, Melissa," my father glanced down at the floor. "Yes, they are...I'm supposed to go to Fort Campbell on Friday..." My father later explained to me that a few weeks prior, he'd gotten a letter from the draft board. They'd caught onto his attempt to fool him and insisted that he appeared before them again. He left me with Becky for a day while he appeared before the draft board, and sure enough, in spite of having only one eye, he was indeed selected for the draft. Today was a Wednesday, and my father was told to head to Fort Campbell for basic training on Friday. He hadn't let me know about this ahead of time as he didn't want to frighten me...

"Daddy, no!" I cried out. I just knew it. I just _knew _they were going to take my father away. "No, Daddy! They can't take you! They can't!"

"They will if I don't do nothin'," my father admitted. "The government _is _smarter than I thought. They caught on to an' got Jim, and now they're gonna get me too..."

"Daddy, you _can't _let them take you! What am I gonna do without my Daddy...?" I cried.

"You don't gotta worry 'bout that, honey..." my father managed to crack a smile as he softly hugged me. "I know ya heard me say this before, but in case this happened...I already came up with a plan. I got everything figured out."

"You do?" I hopefully smiled. "Dad, I've wanted to know what your plan is for ages! Why haven't you told me...?"

"Well," my father let go of me as he placed a finger to his chin. "Melissa, I didn't tell you what my plan to get out of this was...'cause...I know yer not gonna like it..." he sighed.

Now I was _really _curious. "What's your plan, Daddy? Tell me! Tell me!"

"Alright," my father momentarily gazed out my bedroom window as he tried to find the right words. "Melissa, tomorrow...we're gonna leave Kentucky."

That came as a _huge _shock to me. That was _totally _not what I was expecting. "What?! Leave Kentucky?" I gasped. "But...but this is my home! We can't leave here, Daddy!"

"We got no choice," my father shook his head. "If I stay here, they're gonna get me. I did some thinkin', and it don't seem we got any other options. We gotta leave here, Melissa."

"But I don't _WANT _to leave here, Daddy!" I started to cry. "Daddy...I _love _Kentucky! I don't wanna leave here...I love it here!" It's kind of funny to look back on it now; for someone who nowadays considers herself proud to be a Canadian woman, I just couldn't really imagine a world outside of Kentucky..."Daddy, can't you talk to the government? There's gotta be some other way..."

"I wish that _would _work, Melissa, but I'm afraid it ain't that simple," Mike sighed as he embraced me again. "They won't listen to me or no one else. They don't care about people like me and what we want; they only care 'bout what they want. What they care 'bout is winning the war. They just see me as someone who could potentially help 'em win. There's no reasonin' with 'em. I'm afraid we got no choice..."

"But Daddy..." I tearfully pleaded.

"I'm sorry, honey," my father cried a little as well. "I wish there was somethin' else I could do..."

My father continued to embrace for a while as I cried into his chest. After a while, I glanced back up into his eyes. "Where are we gonna go to, Daddy?"

"Well, Melissa..." my father explained, "you know that big country above America? I'm sure your teachers showed it to ya on a map..."

"You mean Cainada?" I said-at the time, I couldn't pronounce my future home country's name properly!

"Yes, honey. Canada. That's where we're goin'."

"Why are we goin' all the way up there?" I didn't understand why we would need to travel so far away from home.

"Because it's another country entirely. The government can't get me up there. They've been takin' in people like me and lettin' 'em stay there. As long as we move there to live, we'll be safe," Dad smiled.

"Can we ever come back, Daddy...?" I hopefully asked.

"No, Melissa. I'm afraid not. We can _never _come back here..." he sighed.

"Why not?"

"Because if I _do _come back, they'll consider me a bad man for not joinin' the war like they wanted me to," he sighed again. "They'll lock me up an' throw away the keys if they find me...an' you might never see me again."

"How are we gonna get to Cainada?" I wondered.

"I got that covered too," my father remarked. "I got us a couple of airplane tickets. We're gonna fly there tomorrow mornin'. That's how we're gonna get to Canada."

"We're gonna fly there...?" I couldn't help but feel a little scared hearing that; I had never flown on a plane before!

"Yeah," my Dad nodded. "Flight 602-that's our flight. We gotta be there by ten in the mornin', an' from there, it'll take us to a city in Canada called Toronto. Your Uncle Chet's gonna take us to the airport." Chester Burroughs, or "Chet" as my father called him, was a ferret who was another one of my father's close friends from his school days. Unlike Jim and Len, Chet had never worked at the automotive factory. Instead, he'd recently taken over his mother's real estate business.

"Uncle Chet's gonna take us to the airport?"

"Yes," my father nodded. "He's also gonna sell our house an' my ol' Studebaker. I worked everything out with him. Seein' that we ain't gonna be livin' here any more, someone's gotta buy it..."

"Oh..." This whole situation just seemed so _confusing _to my little mind. I just didn't understand _why _we had to leave my home forever. I didn't want to go, and I just felt so confused and scared..."Daddy, I'm scared..."

"I know ya are," my father warmly said in a comforting voice. "Melissa, honey...I know this may seem so strange and frightenin', but you gotta know that I'm only thinkin' about you. I just want to make sure you're safe...I don't want nothin' to happen to ya...I couldn't live with myself if somethin' _did _happen to ya..."

"I know, Daddy..." I teared up.

"I love ya, Melissa...ya know that..."

"I know...I love you too, Daddy..." I continued to cry.

"Like I said, I know this may seem scary, but when you're much older, you'll look back and know this was for the best," he cracked a smile at me. "You'll see..."

"I guess so..." I sniffled, grabbing a tissue from my nightstand to wipe my eyes.

"Now, good night, Melissa," my father smiled at me as he kissed me on the forehead. "We gotta get up really early in the mornin' an' get everything ready to go. You'll need your sleep..."

"Okay, Daddy," I managed to smile. "What time do I have to get up by?"

"I set my clock for five," Dad explained. "Your Uncle Chet said he was gonna be here by eight so we could get to the airport on time."

"Okay...Good night, Daddy..." I yawned as I shut my little eyes.

"Good night, honey..." I heard my father whisper as he crept out of my room and closed the door.

Alas, my father's comforting words wouldn't help me much. I was just so confused and scared by this predicament that I ended up getting barely any sleep at all...

The next morning came and sure enough, at five o'clock, my father woke me from my slumber. We both quickly got dressed and quickly packed our suitcases so we'd be ready in time to leave. As much as I wanted to take everything with me, Dad explained we could only take things that we needed or that were very important to us, as we didn't have room for everything. We'd have to leave some things behind...hopefully, Chet would be able to auction those things we left behind off...

It took us a couple of hours, but at last we got everything packed. With that, we sat down on our old sofa as we waited for Chet to arrive to take us to the airport. He was due to arrive any minute.

As I sat down, my eyes couldn't help but dart around the living room. I figured I might as well take the opportunity to soak in everything that was here, as I had a feeling I was _never _going to see my old house again...

"I guess this is it, Daddy..." I sighed. "This is the last time I'm gonna see my home..."

"Aw, don't worry, Melissa..." my father tried to cheer me up. "I know you're gonna miss our old home, but we'll find a new one up in Canada. You'll have plenty of new memories to make..."

"I guess so, Dad..." I sighed. I really _didn't _want to leave, but what could I really do? My father's mind was already made up.

Soon, eight o'clock came and went, and there was no sign of Chet. My father was beginning to grow impatient.

"Alright..." my father growled as he started to tap his paw on the floor. "Where is that Chet...I _told _him to be here by eight..."

No sooner had my father said that then we heard the sound of a loud car horn blaring. Sure enough, Chet had arrived to pick us up.

"Well, that's him," my father jumped up from the sofa and opened the front door, stepping outside onto the porch. "You ready, Melissa?"

"Yeah, I guess I'm ready, Dad..." I sighed as I gathered up my little suitcase and got up as well.

"Alrighty then. Let's go!" With that, we made our way to Chet's Chrysler, which was parked in front of our house.

"You're ten minutes _late_, Chet," my father glared at the ferret.

"Heheh, sorry, Mike!" Chet said in his thick Bostonian accent. Chet had been born and raised in Boston, but when he was about thirteen, his family had moved down south to Kentucky. However, he still had that very thick accent. "I tried to get here on time, but there was a wicked traffic jam downtown! I'm lucky I got here when I did!"

"Well, we _really _need to get a move on there, Chet," my father grunted.

"Understood! Oh, hey there, little Melissa!" the ferret cheerfully waved to me as he opened the back door for me. "I see someone didn't get much sleep last night, did they?"

"No, Uncle Chet..." I let out a loud yawn as I climbed into the back seat and buckled my seatbelt. "I don't wanna leave my home..."

"Hey, it may be tough, kid, but your father's here for you, you know!" Chet patted me on the head. "Everything'll turn out A-okay, you'll see!"

"I guess so..."

My father quickly tossed our suitcases into the Chrysler's trunk and hopped in beside Chet.

"Did you get everything you wanted to take, Mike...?" Chet asked my father as Dad shut his door.

"Yeah, I reckon that's everything we'll need for now," my father nodded. "We really need to hit the road! Don't wanna miss our flight now!"

"You got it!" With that, Chet slowly drove off as we headed out of the suburbs. As we left, I glanced out the back window at my old suburban home and the houses surrounding it. This life was the only one I'd ever known. I had no idea what would be awaiting me once we got to Canada...I just felt so sad and afraid at that moment. What would life as a Canadian bring me?

I shed a single tear as my old house gradually disappeared from sight. That was the last I ever saw of my old house and my old neighborhood. Even though I'm happy living here in the Evergreen Forest, there's been a part of me that's always wanted to go back someday at least to visit and see how much has changed since I was a little girl. Maybe I should discuss this with Ralph sometime...although I'm not sure he'd be up for having to fly there!

My father and I were busy chatting away in the front seat while I was mostly quiet.

A few minutes passed before I even spoke. "Uncle Chet?" I asked.

"Yes, Melissa?"

"D'ya think someone will buy our house?" I wondered. I was hoping someone nice would buy our old home...

"Ah, I'm sure someone will! You have a really fine little home there. She looks like a real fixah-uppah! I bet someone'll want your home!" Chet enthusiastically replied.

"Okay..."

"Chet..." my father sighed. "I know this was a hard decision for me to make to leave for Canada..."

"I know, Melissa seems pretty sad about it," the ferret nodded. "But you're only thinking about her."

"I know, but I'm just wondering...is this what Allie would want me to do? If she could see me now, would she be proud of me for what I'm doing?" My father felt worried that my mother might be disappointed in him for running away from his problems. "I...I just don't know, Chet..."

"Well, you did say Allie made you promise her to protect Melissa before she died, right?" Chet replied.

"That's right," Dad nodded.

"Like I said, you're only trying to look out for her. I bet Allie _would _be proud of you if she could see what you're doing right now!" Chet emphatically stated. He was always a pretty lively character; out of my father's friends, he was probably the most friendly out of all of them. He was quite a character...if my father was a heavy smoker, Chet had him beat! I always remember he liked to smoke _two _cigarettes at the same time...In all honesty, I wouldn't be surprised if he ended up with lung cancer by the time he was 40!

"I sure _hope _so..." my father muttered. "I envy ya, Chet...You had a connection to get yerself outta this scenario...You don't have to go through what I'm goin' through..." My father later explained to me that Chet's uncle had a job working for the state government and had been able to pull some strings to keep Chet out of Vietnam, so it was hard for him to imagine what was going through our minds. But still, it was nice of him to offer to help us...

Soon enough, we reached Louisville International Airport. My father and I had checked our baggage in and now we were waiting by the gate where we would board the plane that would take us to Canada. Chet had come along with us, but only to see us off before we left.

Presently, I saw the plane (which I later learned from a high school boyfriend was a Boeing 707) pulling up to the gate. "Daddy, is that our plane?" I asked my father.

"Sure looks like it, Melissa..." my father remarked.

"Wow...Daddy...it's so...big!" I exclaimed, as I was certainly rather awed by how large it was. I'd seen jet airliners pass over our house before, but I'd never had the opportunity to actually see one up close before! I just couldn't believe how big they actually were...

"Quite impressive, aren't they?" Chet chuckled. "It's amazing how far technology has come! When I was your age, Melissa, they didn't have _anything _quite like this...Did they, Mike?"

"Nope," my father shook his head. "They didn't have no planes like that!"

As the plane reached the gate, I couldn't help but feel nervous and scared knowing we were about to board our flight. "Daddy...is the plane gonna be safe...?" I worried.

"What's the matter, honey?" my father tried to comfort me. "Are you scared the plane's gonna crash?"

"Yeah," I nodded my little head. I couldn't help but feel nervous...I had never flown on a plane before. Even today at 40, there have still been only a handful of times in my life I've rode in a plane. To add to that...plane crashes used to make the news _all _the time when I was little, it seemed. One memory that particularly stuck in my mind was hearing on the news when I was about five or six that a jet airliner had crashed on Mt. Fuji in Japan, killing everyone on board...the thought of being on a plane while it was crashing scared the daylights out of my young mind!

"Aw, honey," my father encouragingly smiled. "You're scared 'cause it's your first flight, isn't it?"

"I guess so," I admitted to my father.

"It's the first time I've ever flown myself," Dad responded. It was true; this indeed would be the only time in my father's life he ever rode on a plane. "But I'm not scared. I'm sure everything will go just fine, Melissa!"

"You've got nothing to worry about, Melissa," Chet chimed in. "As long as the pilots know what they're doing, you'll be fine!"

"I hope so..." I couldn't help but worry.

Soon my father and I heard the words we'd been waiting for. "All passengers traveling on United Flight 602 to Toronto, we're ready for you to board!"

"That's our call," my father explained to me as he sat up. "C'mon, Melissa. We gotta get goin'..."

"Well, Mike, I hope everything works out for you in Canada," Chet said as the ferret shook paws with my father. "I hope you'll enjoy your new life!"

"I hope so too," my father said as he headed towards the gate. "Take care, Chet. Don't get yourself into too much trouble now, ya hear? I'd hate to hear ya ran the real estate business right into the ground..."

"Ah, you know me Mike! I've been doing quite a fine job with my mother's business!" Chet called.

"Goodbye, Uncle Chet!" I turned around to wave to the ferret.

"Bye, Melissa. You be good for your father, now!" he waved back to me.

"I will!" Chet was the last person from my old life I ever saw. Once I stepped aboard the plane, a whole new world was awaiting me...

We were warmly greeted by a flight attendant as she welcomed us aboard Flight 602. Soon, my father and I found our seats, right near the plane's wing. I ended up with the window seat.

"Wow, Daddy," I remarked as I looked around. Besides us, there were probably about a hundred or so people on this flight. It felt rather strange actually being aboard a plane. "This is what it's like on a plane?"

"Yeah, I guess so," my father nodded.

Soon, another one of the flight attendants gave her safety speech, telling us what to do in case an emergency arose during the flight. I didn't fully understand her, however, and this only made my fears grow...

"Daddy, she just said this plane might crash!" I worriedly whispered to my father.

"Melissa, she just told us what to do in case something happens during our flight," Dad reassured me. "Everything'll turn out fine, I bet. They say planes are really gettin' safe these days..."

"Oh!" I felt silly for misunderstanding the flight attendant. "Do I gotta buckle my seatbelt now, Daddy?"

"That would probably be a good idea, honey," my father nodded as we both fastened our seatbelts.

Soon, our plane taxied down the runway and took off into the skies. As we became airborne, I couldn't help but glance out the window as I could see the city beneath us gradually growing smaller and smaller...

"Daddy," I tapped my father on the shoulder. "Look...everyone looks like ants down there..."

"They sure do, don't they?" my father agreed with me.

Eventually, the plane reached its' cruising altitude. My father had already fallen asleep, as he'd decided to catch up on some sleep he missed out on the night before. All the while, I just gazed out the window, looking out past the 707's engine as clouds gradually passed by. It would be a few hours before we reached Toronto...

I still couldn't help but feel scared, as this was _nothing _like I had ever experienced in my young life. I still didn't understand why my Dad had to take me away from the only home I ever knew, nor did I fully understand what I was doing on this flight...

"I just don't understand..." I tiredly sighed as my eyes began to close; watching all those clouds pass really made me feel quite sleepy! I drifted off into a heavy slumber...

As I entered the land of dreams, I suddenly found myself in quite a familiar place. It was none other than the forest clearing that I'd seen so many times in my dreams. This excited me, as I knew what that meant...

Sure enough, when I turned around, I saw a familiar figure sitting by the equally familiar pond's shore, skipping a couple rocks. I knew _just _who that was...

"Mommy!" I cried out as my mother turned around and welcomed me with open arms.

"Hello, Melissa," she warmly smiled at me. "It's great to see you again. It's been a while since we've seen each other...You're getting pretty big there!"

"Daddy says I've still got a lot of growing to do," I beamed at her.

"You'll probably look just like I did when you're grown up..." my mother trailed off. "It's just nice to see you again, Melissa. I wish I _could _see you in real life, but I guess seeing you in dreams will have to do for now."

"I wish you were still here, Mommy..." I sighed as a glum expression came across my face.

"What's the matter, Melissa?" she worriedly asked me. "You look pretty upset."

"Mommy..." I tried to explain to her, "Daddy made me leave our home! He told us that this was the only way the government would leave us alone. He's taking us to Cainada!"

"I know, Melissa; I can see everything your father does, you know."

"Mommy, why is Daddy taking me somewhere so far away? I want to go back home..." I cried a little.

"Oh, there, there, Melissa," I felt my mother's warm embrace. These dreams of my mother always felt so real; it was always such a disappointment for me when I woke up. "I know you miss your home a lot..."

"Yes, I do, Mommy!" I cried again. Already, I felt quite homesick.

"But, Melissa, you need to know that your father's only doing it for you. It's what's best for you, you know!" she cheerfully replied. "If your father stayed behind, you might not ever get to see him again..."

"That's just what Dad said..." I realized. "But Mom, why would he do all this?"

"Because your father promised me when I was dying to protect you and do everything he could to make sure you get a chance at a good life," she smiled. "I want you to have the happy life that I never got to have. In Canada, you will get that chance! Things may seem scary in a new world, but you'll soon grow to like it when you see what's in store for you."

That sounded pretty encouraging. "Thanks, Mommy...I feel a little better now..."

"No problem, Melissa," my mother grinned back at me. "I'll always be with you when you need some help...But now, I've got to go." With that, my mother slowly rose upwards into the sky.

"Bye, Mom," I waved to her as she disappeared up into the clouds overhead. At that moment, I woke up, finding myself once again aboard the 707, gazing out the window at the wing and the clouds.

I felt a little better knowing my father only wanted to help with me, but even so, I knew things were going to be _very _different once I got to Canada.

Life was never going to be the same...

**END CHAPTER FIVE**

**AUTHOR'S** **NOTE**: Well, there's Chapter 5! Melissa's on her way to Canada as she gets one step closer to the Evergreen Forest and her current life. A chapter I must say I feel quite proud of, as everything came together pretty much how I was hoping it would! Considering this was an important chapter, I surprisingly don't have that many notes...

This won't be Melissa's last negative experience with love (obviously); you'll see plenty more of that in her high school days as she will have _lots _of guy troubles before she ultimately meets up with Ralph. She certainly did learn that love can be painful at times...This is certainly true to life-how many people actually marry their first crush?

The reason I had Jim actually end up getting drafted was that I wanted to give Mike more extra motivation to flee to Canada. He's already lost his brother (and his grandfather years prior, in WWI) to war, and to lose his best friend would be all the extra fuel needed to get him to migrate to the safe lands of Canada. Jim was not bold enough to fight being drafted, but Mike certainly is...Poor Becky, though. I wanted to portray that scene as being pretty emotional seeing that a potentially happy family being split apart like that would be pretty sad...

Although Louisville, Kentucky indeed DOES have an international airport (and United DOES indeed have service there), I couldn't find any indication that there have ever been any flights to Toronto from that airport...so that might not have any basis in real life. Then again, this story doesn't have to be 100% accurate to real life (we are dealing with anthropomorphic characters from and based on an animated family series...I think I am allowed some inaccuracies). Flight 602, the flight Mike and Melissa take to Canada, is named after an old song by Chicago from their 1971 double album _Chicago III_ (their first three albums were double albums!), a song about the traveling life a band would encounter on the road and in the air. It actually_ does _mention traveling to Canada, although it doesn't portray Canada in a positive light ("_Canada is so far from where you want to be. Be in California, with sunshine in your heart..._" It's funny, I was actually born in California, and yet, I'd rather visit Canada than California! Personally, I don't want to be within a thousand miles of the wacky world of Hollywood...)

And finally, the plane crash on Mt. Fuji that Melissa remembers hearing about on the news when she was little...that, as you may have guessed, was an actual real-life plane crash-the crash of BOAC Flight 911, to be exact (I have read up a fair deal on plane crashes!). The accident occurred on March 5, 1966. The plane had taken off from Tokyo to fly to Hong Kong and the pilots had chosen to fly close to Mt. Fuji to give the passengers a good view of the famous volcano. But suddenly, in mid-flight, the 707 (same type of plane Melissa flies on in this chapter) spun out of control, broke apart in mid-air, and crashed near the mountain, killing all 124 people on board. It turned out that the plane had encountered severe turbulence that had stressed it beyond what it had been designed to handle and it thus broke up in mid-flight...a video shot by a passenger on the flight that somehow survived the crash ended up proving that (kind of disturbing knowing actual on-board video footage of a fatal plane crash exists...). Seeing that this would have happened when Melissa would be about five in this story, it would be possible for her to remember hearing about that on the news...I do like to have touches of real life in my stories!

Well, that was chapter 5. Chapter 6, in which Melissa arrives in Canada, will be coming...as soon as I can come up with more ideas for it!


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